Evening, Softly
by Azneyez
Summary: Freelance artist Riku and innocent stripper Sora form what they think is an untouchable bond, but in the wicked city of Las Vegas, even the purest love can be broken. Violence, RxS LxC, main, slight AkuRoku. OOCness.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is a fic I've been dying to post! It's pretty cliché at the beginning, very fluffy and upbeat, but it eventually takes a deliciously sinister turn. Because my other fic is essentially all sap, I needed another darker project to work on, just so I can get rid of all my pent-up angst. Please stick with this story. If I write it correctly, it'll be a really emotional and romantic ride. Not beta-ed, though. Sorry!

Warnings: RikuxSora, LeonxCloud, and it's Vegas, so there'll be a fair share of violence and stripping and clubbing. :D Future rape, and buckets of angst; it's not a happy tale. Also requires a basic knowledge of Vegas, the hotels and all...though I'm taking creative liberties and adding restaurants and clubs where needed.

Comments adored. I'm still a KH-fanfic Newbie; any suggestions would be much appreciated!

* * *

Evening, Softly  
By azneyez

* * *

Having just flown in from Manhattan, Las Vegas wasn't as much of a culture shock as it could've been: same tall buildings, same hustle-and-bustle and teeming streets, same load of bitchy, superficial people who cared solely about their own cheap needs. The only difference was that Vegas tried to cover it up. It disgusted him. Under a layer of beautiful flashing lights, extravagant hotels, and gaudy tourist shows, one could almost believe that the city was a good place, a _fun_ place--and it was, to the naive newbies. But Riku could see the faces of residents...they were sick, haggard. Exhausted.

"Riku, this place is _fantastic_," his dad had insisted, sweeping open his curtains to display the vast, glittering aerial of the Strip. "Casinos. Musicals. Places to drink, get incredible food...how about the Excalibur? The roller coasters?"

"The dumbshit tourists," Riku responded, peering up from his easel, which he'd set up as far away from the balcony as he could. "The lewd flyers that people shove into your face when you walk down the street. The mothers with seven children who spend their food money playing the slots. Yeah, dad, really goddamn fantastic. If you like living in the nine levels of hell, this is definitely the place for you."

Of course, his dad had smacked the shit out of him for that, but it was worth it to get it off his chest.

For the first week, every night was the same--Riku would shower, go downstairs for a drink, and wander idly around the city with his sketchpad in search of inspiration. For such a busy area, there certainly was a lack of insightful material. Everything was like cardboard...flat, insipid, two-dimensional. He avoided the attractions, opting to stay in the casino areas of the hotels--no way was he going to get suckered into paying a fortune for some stupid show. He quickly found a home in the Luxor. The hotel wasn't quite like the others. It was gaudy, to be sure, and it was constantly brimming with the same pathetic people--but something about its glistening black exterior was alluring...classy. The Luxor's Egyptian theme had a rare elegance that Riku appreciated.

Even the employers seemed stylish and friendly. As he wove through the maze of cheerful slot machines, he could see the sophisticated table dealers, clad in sleek black pants and matching vests. Their white dress shirts were always ironed free of wrinkles, the cuffs turned up cleanly at the wrist, and their bowties were almost comically straight. One of these dealers--an attractive blonde man with cheery eyes--smiled and waved him over as he passed.

"Seen you come through here before," he said. "Try your luck?"

"No, thanks," said Riku. "I've got money in my pocket, and I'd like to keep it there."

"Toldja he was too smart." The blonde man laughed, turning to his right. For the first time, Riku noticed the man's companion--a sweet-faced boy who could've almost passed for sixteen or seventeen if they hadn't been in a "21 " area of the casino. He was wearing the same pants as the dealer, but no vest, and he was swimming in his dress shirt. The sleeves went well past his knuckles. His cheeks turned a little pink as Riku glanced at him, and he smiled expansively, peering back with the prettiest blue eyes Riku had ever seen.

"Well, what are you doing here, then, if not to gamble?" he asked, winking. "If you're interested in Cloud, he's taken."

Riku looked at the blonde--Cloud--who just rolled his eyes and grinned. "That's okay," said Riku, beginning to smile as well. "No offense...I guess I just go for a different type."

"What's your type?"

"Brown hair, sort of small," said Riku lightly. He shot a sideways look at the boy, who met the gaze shyly. "And...I like sweet smiles. Cute faces. And beautiful blue eyes."

Cloud's grin broadened. "Sounds like you want the whole package. Geez, _Sora_..." he pointedly nudged his companion, who swatted at him and blushed. "Where do you think we'd find someone like that? The only people I know who look like that snore really loudly. And they borrow other people's clothes and don't give them back."

Sora hit him playfully with one of his oversized sleeves. "If you're talking about me, I _don't_ have beautiful eyes. And would you rather I walk around naked?"

Riku coughed involuntarily. Cloud glanced at him, then snickered.

"Tell you what, sir," he said, whipping out a pack of cards and waving them enticingly before Riku. "Let's just play one game. One draw each, high card wins. You're supposed to be betting chips or cash, but since we're having a slow night, I'll make an exception. You play against Sora. You each pick a prize. It can be anything you want, okay?"

"If you agree, I'm playing for thirty bucks," said Sora. "I know that's kinda steep for a high draw, but I really need a new microwave. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," said Riku. An idea flashed in his mind, and he grinned. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Not even a blink," Cloud observed. "This one's a keeper, Sora. He must be rich out his ass."

"I'm not sure about that visual, but yeah, pretty much."

Sora beamed as he dragged his chair around the table so he sat next to Riku. He put a hand on Riku's knee, sending about a thousand volts of electricity through him. "Thank you so much for this," he said sincerely, leaning over. Riku struggled not to look down his shirt and failed miserably. "I know we just met and all, but thanks for being so friendly."

"It means a lot to a prostitute without a microwave," Cloud added sweetly.

"I am _not_ a prostitute!" Sora turned to Riku, sulking. "Do I _look_ like a prostitute?"

"_Stripper_, my bad," said Cloud. "I forgot, prostitutes don't dance."

"Some of them do, for an extra twenty," Riku pointed out, and they both burst out laughing.

"I'll spare you a lecture on the nuances of stripping and whoring, on account of my really wanting that microwave," said Sora. He was still pouting. The expression was oddly endearing...it drew attention to his lips. He turned to Riku. "So what do you want if you win? I have no cash, sorry. But I have coupons! You can have as many green beans and Little Debbie cakes as you want!"

"No sexual favors, either," Cloud added. "My calling him a prostitute is completely ironic--he's a virgin."

Sora turned red again, punching him in the arm and sending cards everywhere. "_Cloud Strife_!"

"Whaaat? Shouldn't your future husband know of your dainty nature?"

"Way to disclose personal information! Why don't you just buy a huge, glittery billboard on the Strip that says, 'Come bang Sora, the world's poorest, loudest snoring, microwave-less virgin stripper?'"

"It'd spark the interest of too many _perverts_," said Cloud, making a face, and despite himself, Sora began to giggle.

"You're one to talk, Mr. I-Do-Not-Have-a-Shoe-Fetish!"

Cloud pretended to drool. "Nnggh...Reeboks..."

"Are you two dating? Or maybe related?" asked Riku. "Both?"

"Eeew!" Sora went into another giggling fit. "We're not from _Arkansas_."

"Ouch, Sora, political correctness? But nah...no on both counts. We've just been friends forever. We did date for a year or so, but it really wasn't meant to be. I mean, I used to baby-sit him when he was eight. Kinda sick, huh?" Having finally retrieved the deck from the floor, Cloud began shuffling with that practiced Las Vegas flair, flipping the cards so quickly that they almost seemed to disappear. He gathered the deck and fanned it across the table in a neat arc. "Indicate your card, sir."

Riku pointed to a card near the center of the curve. Cloud plucked it out and slid it facedown to Riku, then nodded at Sora.

"Your go, Snoring Virgin."

"That sounds like some weird tribal name," said Sora, tapping a card.

Cloud extricated the card, and Sora scooped it up. "Okay, so we don't have any cheaters, pick up your card and show it to me. Angle them so the other person can't see what it is. Sora first."

Sora turned his card towards Cloud.

"The virgin has the Queen of Hearts," said Cloud after a moment. "You, sir?"

Riku hesitated, then showed his card—the eight of clubs.

"Ding ding, we have a winner!" Cloud cheered, winking. "The ace of spades."

"Hey, I don't have--"

"No way," Sora argued, pouting again. "His beating my Queen of Hearts goes against the odds...I was feeling so lucky tonight, too!"

"You may still get lucky tonight," Cloud pointed out, wriggling his eyebrows, and Sora swept up the deck of cards and sprayed them at him. "Hey! The game's not fifty-two card pick-up!"

"Fair's fair," said Sora, sighing, turning to Riku as Cloud dipped down to retrieve the cards for the second time that night. "What do I owe you?"

Deep breath. Riku took the plunge: "How about a date?"

There was a long pause, broken only by the _thwuck_ of Cloud banging his head soundly on the table. Sora blinked at him, blue eyes shining. The pink patches had return to his cheeks, making his face glow. It made Riku's heart pound heavily in his chest. _He's beautiful_, Riku thought helplessly._ God help me, he's so beautiful_.

"That would be nice," Sora responded at last, treating him to a soft, shy smile. "Even better than a microwave."

Riku grinned wildly at him, repressing the urge to jump up and down and scream with happiness. "Great! That's...this is great!"

Sora's smile widened. "When are you free?"

"Um...right now? Is that too short notice, or--"

"Oh, no! No, now would be perfect!"

"Sora, I _refuse_ to let you go until your date answers me one question," Cloud declared, emerging from under the table.

Riku swallowed. "Yes?"

"What's your name?"

"Oh...it's Riku," he said, relieved. "Riku Marshak."

"Well, pleased to meet you then, Riku Marshak." They shook hands, then Cloud glanced cautiously to the side. Sora had turned around and was quickly examining his appearance on one of the mirrored columns near the slot machines. "Mr. Marshak," Cloud continued more quietly, solemn for the first time since they'd met. "Treat this one well, please? Sora's...he's just very special to me. To a lot of people. Right now he's just a pretty face, but when you get to know him better, you'll realize that the most beautiful part of him is his heart."

"I've known him for two seconds, and I _already_ think he's more than a pretty face to me," Riku confessed, his voice low with embarrassment.

"Great answer. Just keep everything in mind, okay? You break his heart, I break your neck. That whole spiel."

"Should I run home and change?" asked Sora nervously, rejoining the group.

"No," said Riku. "You're perfect."

Cloud brightened at this response. He met Riku's gaze significantly, as if to give him a mental nod of approval. "You kids have fun, then. No excessive drinking. Avoid dark alleys. And if you decide to do the dirty deed, make sure you have the proper Sunday supplement coverage."

Sora winced. "_Cloud_."

"--but I don't have to worry about that with you, Sora, do I? Because you never sleep with someone on the first date. Or the second. Or the sixtieth."

"Time to go," said Sora, laughing, seizing Riku's hand and dragging him across the room to the exit in a sprint. And Riku just grinned, perfectly content to be dragged--as long as Sora's soft fingers were intertwined with his, it seemed he could put up with just about anything.

* * *

"What do you do, Sora?"

Sora smiled at this, lowering his fork and shrugging. "Cloud told you, I strip," he said. His dignified professionalism almost disguised the sad notes in his voice, but his eyes, which were suddenly overbright, betrayed him. "Pay's pretty good. And it's easy work. I just do a few choreographed dance numbers, try to look more sexually experienced than I really am, and cash a big fat paycheck every Tuesday. It's a good life, huh."

"For some people," Riku agreed.

They were sitting across from each other in a booth at Mauna Kea, a Hawaiian restaurant set a block or so off the Strip, so the prices were more reasonable. The tropical décor made for an invigorating, romantic atmosphere, and everything was softly set aglow by tiki torches. Sora looked so gentle in the sunset-ish lighting. Riku just couldn't believe he was a stripper, and he told him as much. Sora giggled.

"What do I look like, then?"

"A adorable country singer," said Riku with a grin. "You look to me like the sort of optimistic type, with a beautiful, deep soul of secrets...someone who sings the songs of his heart."

"Wow," said Sora.

"Yeah, that was a little over the top, but you get the picture."

"No!--well, maybe just a bit, but it was cute! But I'm surprised because I was actually born in Louisiana, Southern drawl and everything. My family moved to Nevada when I was seven. I've been losing the accent ever since. You can only hear it when I'm pissed or drunk off my ass, but hopefully you'll never see me under any of those circumstances."

"And you're obviously optimistic, so I was right on a couple of counts! Dude, I should be charging for this!"

"Yeah, better than any fortuneteller I've ever been to," Sora added, snickering. "The only inaccuracy is that I could never make it as a country singer."

"You don't sing?"

"Not well, no. I mean, I love to sing...it's truly my passion...but I can't so much as carry a tune. I'm strictly a shower-singer."

"Great, when can I see you perform?"

"Riku, you're such a pervert. It's _wonderful_."

They both laughed again, taking a minute or so to catch up on their cooling meals. Riku spooned soup into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he watched Sora sip at his soda. "Hey Sora, you said singing is your passion...but when I asked you what you did, you immediately said that you were a stripper. Why?"

"I just thought you were referring to my profession," said Sora.

"Yeah...but I don't want to hear the all-purpose 'about me' that you give to all your other dates. I want to know your favorite ice cream, if you're afraid of the dark...the workings of your souls, if you will. I...I want to know your passions, and everything about you."

For one terrible second, Riku imagined Sora rolling his eyes and sliding out of the booth, muttering that he was an over-analytical dullard. It had happened before. That was why Riku never made dating a habit. His mouth would just bolt from him, running on and on until he felt as if he'd properly expressed his feelings...and then, in the awkward silence that followed, he would realize that he'd made a complete ass of himself.

Sora was quiet for a long time after this admission, fiddling with straw. His face was unreadable.

Riku finally found his voice, choked with uncertainty. "I'm a rambling fool. And far too sentimental for my own good. I'm sorry; please forget I said anything...I don't mean to get on that soapbox."

"On the contrary," said Sora softly, "I owe _you_ an apology. For assuming you were the type who just wanted to hear shallow things like, 'I'm a stripper.'"

There was another long pause.

Sora smiled his dazzling smile suddenly, straightening with newfound confidence. "So, my name is Sora H. DeMaverick. I had my twenty-first birthday three months ago. I had a garden back in Louisiana, but now all I have to my name is a spider-infested hotel room and a beautiful cat named Todders. When I'm not at work or chopping coupons from newspapers, I play the piano and sing. It's actually my dream to be a famous country singer. I've never told that to anyone before, Riku. Not even Cloud."

"And you can do anything you want to," Riku said with a grin. "You're incredible. Not only are you drop-dead gorgeous, you're the first person who actually understood my 'I want to know you' speech."

"And you're the first person who cared to know." Sora reached across the table and squeezed Riku's hands. "So, tell me about yourself."

"Well, my name is Riku Marshak...and I think I'm in love."

* * *

For the first time in nearly five years, Sora DeMaverick fell asleep during a date and woke up without a desperate feeling of panic. He was comfortable, and his head was oddly clear--there was no need to check his drinks for surreptitiously placed drugs or alcohol, and his clothes were untouched. He must've fallen asleep at the movie theatre--terribly rude, he scolded himself, who conks out on their first date?--but Riku had been a perfect gentlemen. Of course, he expected nothing less. Riku...Riku was special. Riku was _amazing_.

There was a note taped to his nightstand, over the digits of his alarm clock. Sora rolled over in his bed to grab it, opening it and losing himself briefly in Riku's scent. He smiled as he scanned Riku's messy cursive.

_Adorable Singing Sensation,_

_You passed out during the movie. Did you drink before dinner, or something? You were out cold. Found your address in your wallet. The manager (I think you must know him?) let me in, but told me I was not to stay in there for more than a minute. Seemed to be rightfully worried about what could happen between an EXTREMELY deep sleeper and a creepy old guy like me. _

_I admit to accidentally brushing your leg as I fished the wallet out of your pants pocket, but that's ALL; I nearly killed myself carrying you to your bedroom without touching any sensitive body parts. Don't want to be Chester the Molester, heh. Props to me._

_You look like an angel when you sleep._

_Love from Riku_

_P.S. I got you a present on my way to your apartment. Left it with the nice manager at the front desk, along with my number. Call me sometime and make my day, won't you please?_

Laughing, Sora hugged the letter and scrambled out of bed, nearly stepping on Todders as he rushed to slip on his shoes and hurry out of his room. Not waiting for the elevator, he skipped down the stairs two at a time. Leon, his handsome hotel manager, glanced up at him as he burst into the room.

"Were you drugged?" he asked sharply. "What happened?"

"I went to a movie, and I guess I fell asleep," Sora admitted timidly. "Thank goodness it was Riku. That could've been bad."

Some of the anxiety melted away from Leon's expression, and he shrugged, brushing chocolate-brown bangs out of his eyes. "As long as you're aware of what could've happened. I understand you're not stupid, Sora. You wouldn't let your guard down around someone you don't trust. This Riku...?"

"He's the one we met yesterday night," said Cloud, emerging from the back room and giving Leon a good-morning kiss. "The rich boy. Does he have as many brains as dollar bills, Sora?"

"He's wonderful," said Sora, closing his eyes and smiling dreamily.

"If he didn't jump you last night, I'm impressed," said Leon.

Cloud smirked. "Yeah, and he left you a gift. Oh, Sora, you'll laugh your _ass_ off when you see it."

Leon brought a large cardboard box from behind the desk and set it carefully on the counter. Frowning, Sora stepped forward and shuffled curiously through the bubble wrap. He hit something hard and gripped the corners, tugging it free of the package.

"It's...it's a _microwave_!"

Cloud burst out laughing at Sora's delighted expression. "See? Now you both got your prizes for the high-draw!"

"Yes," said Sora, hugging the microwave. He grinned shyly, suddenly overwhelmed with an urge to cry. "But in all honesty...I think getting the chance to meet Riku was the _real_ prize."

"Tacky," remarked Leon.

"Yes, and you just love it, don't you?" Cloud teased.

Leon just smiled.

* * *

End of part one! Does it suck? I even appreciate flames; flames are reviews, right?


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Wow! I can't believe I actually got reviews for this! Thank you all SO much! I hope to thank everyone personally in the end of the fic, in the epilogue...seems a fitting place to do thank-you's. In the meantime, I give you all hugs and kisses! You've made me incredibly happy during one of my depressed times. You're all the best! And I apologize for the OOC-ness. For some reason, Happy-Cloud just kind of clicked with me, so I forgot to list it. Leon will be more in character, though.

I never really specified why this was rated M. Here it is: language, drinking, rape, and sex. This is my first M-rated fic, actually, so please feel free to tell me if I get a little out of line or if I can drop the rating to T. Feedback encouraged; be as harsh as you like! I need to learn to take criticism if I want to be a writer.

Forgive the typos; I have no beta.

* * *

Evening, Softly  
By azneyez

* * *

"So why the celibacy, Sora?"

"Are you propositioning me, or are you honestly just curious?"

"It's just one of those 'getting to know you' things. Nothing devious, I promise."

"Oh."

They were sitting on one of the stone planters outside Slots-of-Fun with ice cream cones. Riku had vanilla and Sora had chocolate, though they swapped every bite or so--germs were obviously something Sora wasn't worried about. In fact, Sora had surprisingly few inhibitions. He would hold Riku's hand in public, permitted the use of "honey-bun" and other such pet names, and even allowed Riku to toss an arm around his shoulders. And he'd called the morning after their first date. Riku had expected him to maybe wait a couple of days to avoid seeming desperate, but when Sora rang him up, the first words out of his mouth were, "Riku, you're _fantastic_, please tell me you'll see me again!"

Of course, there were exceptions to the rule. Sora stood his ground against sex (not that Riku had tried to coerce him; he'd just noticed that Sora was careful about not being completely alone with him, dressed conservatively, stuff like that). So far, a peck on the cheek was the extent of their physical relationship. Rather than repelling Riku, he found Sora's abstinence madly seductive. He _loved_ the deep facets in Sora.

"I should've warned you I'm horribly prude," said Sora, misinterpreting Riku's reason for asking. "I don't mean to be a tease."

"I don't mind," Riku assured him, squeezing his hand. "What could be better than eating ice cream on a hot day, in your delightful company?"

Sora giggled. "Now you're just flattering."

"You're free to hit me if you don't like it."

"I love the flattering." Sora gazed down at his melting ice cream cone, smiling. "You're passing so far."

"What?"

"I refuse to put out because I want to test my date's respect," Sora replied simply. "You're passing."

Riku broke into a grin and hugged Sora against him with one arm. Sora melted into the embrace immediately. "I'll never hurt you, if I can help it," said Riku. "I promise to always respect you. Even if we get married, if you say 'no' on our honeymoon, I'll just nod and hop into a cold shower with a skin magazine."

Sora looked momentarily shocked, then he laughed. "Riku, if we were getting married, I assume that we would've had sex sometime beforehand."

"You wouldn't be able to honestly wear the white dress," Riku teased.

"Would you want me in a white dress, then? Kinky devil."

"No, I'd want you _out_ of the white dress. Out of all clothes, in fact."

"For a honeymoon, I suppose that wouldn't be an unacceptable request."

They grinned at each other, then Riku's expression turned serious. "You're really not prude, you know. You're just careful...and you seem to have more respect for yourself than most people do."

Sora's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, well, when no one else respects you, you have a little more motivation to find some feel-good sentiments about yourself."

It reoccurred to Riku suddenly that Cloud had told him that Sora was virgin, rare as that was in Vegas. And if Sora said that he didn't go with people who didn't respect his boundaries, it would mean that all of his dates thus far had destroyed his trust in some way or another. Just the thought made Riku's stomach throb with an odd, dull anger. In his mind's eye, he could imagine Sora dating one guy at a time, desperately hoping not to be hurt, then struggling to pick up the pieces as his heart was broken again. It was amazing that he even had the courage to love.

"Cloud gave me a switchblade," said Sora. He was grinning again, this time more authentically. "I thought it was such a silly precaution, but I think it may have saved my virtue on a couple of occasions. So since then, I've carried it around on all my dates."

"Oh," said Riku.

He leaned around Sora casually to throw away a napkin, then seized him around the waist and stuffed a hand in his back pocket.

"_Riku_! What on earth--"

"Looking for the switchblade," said Riku promptly. He finished digging in Sora's pockets and knelt down, turning down his socks. Sora, who was ticklish, laughed and collapsed back against the planter, kicking his feet.

"I hate people touching my ankles!"

"I don't know why; you have cute ankles." Riku drew him against his chest, under the pretense of rechecking his back pockets. "Where's the blade, Sora, or are we going to have to do a strip search?"

"It's in my underwear," said Sora with a straight face, then chickened out as Riku went for his the button on his jeans. "No, I'm kidding! Back off or I'll be forced to take defensive actions!"

"Yeah, like what? All you've got is a napkin and a chocolate ice--"

Sora shoved the remains of his ice cream cone down the front of his pants.

"Gah, shit, Sora! Shriveling...shriveling..."

Riku's eyes watered as he struggled frantically to heat up his crotch area, glaring at any of the passerbys who stopped to watch him. Sora, who'd been hysterical with laughter ever since Riku's "shriveling" comment, finally took pity on him and tossed him a jacket to cover up the chocolate stain. Then, still giggling, he threw his arms around Riku's neck and kissed him at the corner of his mouth. "I know I don't need to carry the switchblade when I'm with you," he whispered, sending shivers down Riku's spine and effectively warming his groin region.

"N-no?" Riku managed. He wasn't cold anymore, but Sora's sultry voice made him shudder.

"No." Sora pulled away. "Not when you're so weakened by a simple chocolate ice cream cone."

"Oh--you little--!"

Sora was already skittering away, laughing so hard that he kept caroming off parked cars as he pranced down the sidewalk. Riku debated chasing him for a moment--he had a small, hard problem in his pants (and it wasn't the ice cream cone, either)--then he broke into a grin, running after his boyfriend. When he caught up, he knew Sora would repay him with a dinner invitation and a hug. He could live on Sora's hugs forever.

* * *

They kissed for the first time in Sora's hotel room. It was their twelfth date in fourteen days, the fifth at Sora's place--the sexual tension had just become too much for Riku to bear. Since Sora's room was comprised simply of a television, a bed, a small closet, and a bathroom, he'd ended up putting the microwave next to the toilet. When Riku came over for dinner, they were always crammed in the tiny lavatory waiting for their ramen to heat, giving way to a lot of bustling around and bending over to pick up dropped spoons. Eventually, Riku caved in. Sora's hip brushed against him and suddenly he was pinning him against the wall, kissing him with desperate fervor.

After one terrifying, troubled pause, Sora abruptly began to kiss him back. Open-mouthed, no less. Virgin or not, he sure knew how to kiss--he put himself fully into the motion, tangling his fingers in Riku's hair and dragging him closer so their bodies were touching in all the right places. Riku groaned into his mouth, knocking him back into the towel rack. Sora tripped over the toilet, and they both tumbled to the tiled floor. They kissed hungrily for another few minutes, then Riku realized Sora was trembling and pulled off immediately.

"S-Sora? Are you--?"

He was laughing. Riku grinned at him, helping him back into a sitting position. "I'm sorry," Sora apologized, still giggling. "I don't want to ruin the moment, but I can't believe I tripped over the goddamn pot."

"Wow, you know, you rarely cuss." Riku kissed him again, experimentally. "That explains it. You don't have a foul mouth. You have a sweet mouth."

"And you are a charmer, Ri. Swept me right off my feet."

"That wasn't me, it was the toilet."

Sora laughed again, breathlessly. "No more! Now I don't have enough breath left to make out."

"In that case, I think I'll turn off the funny."

They just sat there for a moment, wedged between the toilet and the bathtub, content in each other's arms. Then Sora sighed and started to stand, scooping up his cat.

"That wouldn't have happened if I could find a roomier place to live. I feel bad enough to have to haunt Leon like this, but he gives me a considerable discount, and it's as much as I can afford." Sora poked him in the side, winking at him flirtatiously. "So where's your humble abode? The Treasure Island? The Sahara, maybe?"

"The Bellagio," said Riku.

"...I was joking," Sora responded, stopping in the doorway. There was a moment of silence, then he swung back around compulsively, gaping, nearly flinging the cat across the room. "The _Bellagio_? Are you _shitting_ me? The one on the Strip with the dancing water fountains and the art gallery and--and--3421 rooms! A 65000 square foot _spa_! You're talking about ten-thousand dollars for a _week's_ stay, forget any accommodations!"

"My dad was supposed to share it with me," Riku explained, a little self-conscious, as he always was when discussing finances. "And it's not really that expensive. Less than half, actually. It's about nine-thou for two weeks in our room."

"Holy Jesus," said Sora, looking faint. "Wow. I would do anything to live like that."

"Would you move in with me?"

Sora just smiled up at him, waiting for the punchline. "I snore, remember?"

"I'm serious."

Slowly, Sora's smile faded. He analyzed the perfect sincerity in Riku's face, blinked, then turned pink and began waving his hands frantically. "Oh! N-no _way_! I mean, I'd _love_ to live with you...but--your...your father! What would he say? Not to mention the cost! It would _skyrocket_ if you added another person! I have nothing for you, Riku. You know I can barely afford provisions for myself and the cat."

"The nine thousand _is_ the cost for two people, actually," Riku hastened to explain. "But my dad never stays there. I haven't seen him since the day we arrived, so I guess he found a place somewhere else. We don't get along. In all honesty, I hate the bastard. Besides, even if he drops by and sees you, the most he'll do is throw another fit about my sexuality and go back to his own hotel."

"Riku, I can accept a microwave, but...what is it...six hundred dollars a day? That's too much for you to have to spend," said Sora softly. "I would never ask that of you."

"Right. I'm asking it of _you_."

"But _why_?"

Riku took a deep breath, then said what was in his heart. "I guess a man just likes to provide for his own."

To his immense relief, Sora didn't object to the phrase "his own." He smiled faintly, looking moved, then seemed to shake himself back to reality. "No, Ri. It's too expensive. If you wouldn't mind going for a lower grade hotel, we could move in together somewhere less extravagant, and I could appropriately handle my share of the bill. But I do not want to become a burden, much less an expensive one."

For just a moment, Riku thought about that, staring pensively at the wall. Then he sighed and hugged Sora around the waist, kissing him briefly on the mouth.

"You're _not_ a burden," he said gently. "You will never be a burden. Why is it hard for you to see that I'm asking you because I want it, that I don't care about the money? I would die for you, Sora. Six hundred dollars a night, sure, it sounds like a lot--but for your happiness..._our_ happiness...six hundred dollars seems so inconsequential. Don't you think you're worth that much?"

Sora shrugged. He pulled away, struggling to keep his voice from shaking.

"I...I just...well, honestly, no. Not really."

"Damn it, Sora!"

"Riku, six hundred dollars will buy you dozens of fancy meals. Nice clothes. A ticket to a spectacular show...a ticket to somewhere better, like Europe, or Hawaii...I've always wanted to see Hawaii." Sora smiled at him, a confused, sweet smile. "Wouldn't you rather spend your money on that?"

"No way in _hell_ would I trade anything for you." Riku felt suddenly sick. "Why, would _you_?"

"Not a chance," said Sora simply. "But then again, I'm not the gorgeous rich guy who wants to blow six hundred on a lowly stripper."

Riku just stared at him, momentarily shocked into speechlessness. "Sora. _Fuck_. Don't you _ever_ let me hear you say something like that again."

"I'm just telling the truth," Sora insisted, hugging him fiercely and burying his face in Riku's shirt. "I've been dying to get this off my chest since we met! I could ignore my insecurities when it was just dating, having fun...inexpensive fun...but I never expected--I never expected that we'd really be _together_. I keep expecting you to dump me or hit me or something! It's like it's too good to be true--and now that you're actually willing to put up six hundred a day for _me_...it's too much! Why? _Why_ would you offer that to me? I've known I wasn't good enough for you since the very beginning, when I saw you in the Luxor...you were perfect. You _are_ perfect." He dropped his head, speaking so softly that Riku could barely hear him. "I just didn't know I'd fall in love with you."

Riku carefully brushed Sora's bangs behind his ears, waiting to speak until he'd lifted his head to meet his eyes.

"Sora, you're amazing. A gift from God. If anything, I don't deserve you...but since you're with me now, however miraculous that is, I don't want to spend any time doubting myself. I just want to do everything I can to make you happy." Riku kissed him tenderly, feeling Sora shiver under his touch. When they broke apart, he smiled daringly. "And you know, when we get married, you're just going to have to get used to me spending money on you."

Sora hesitated, then began to smile despite himself. "Arrogant, Ri. _When_ we get married?"

"Yes," said Riku firmly. "When you marry me in your pretty white dress."

Blue eyes sparkled with humor and emotion. "I really love you."

"I love you too, Sora." Riku kissed him again, nuzzling their noses and making Sora giggle. "But you'll have to work on your self-esteem issues, babe. You'd be such a cocky bastard if you only loved yourself half as much as I do."

"Riku..."

"Hey, we'll hold off on you moving in until you're comfortable, okay? But you should start coming over for dinner, at least, so we can sort of ease into the idea. And know that the offer is always open."

Sora beamed at him. "Thank you. It really means a lot to me."

"No problem. But can I ask you another question?"

"Of course."

"Do you think we can go back to making out, now? I'm sort of salivating."

Sora laughed, then sprawled himself artistically on his single-sleeper. "I love a man who finishes what he starts," he said in a sultry voice, licking his lips in the sexiest manner Riku had ever seen.

Riku swallowed and somehow managed not to jump on him, amazed at his own self-control. "Fuck, Sora."

"No fuck Sora," Sora said, holding out his arms. "Kiss Sora."

"You bet I will."

These kisses were different. No fervent rolling around or necking--they simply sat side by side on the bed, Sora's hands resting on Riku's knee. Riku kissed Sora as gently as he could. With his newfound knowledge of his boyfriend's insecurity, he was seized by a sudden fear; a paranoia that if he was too forceful, Sora would break. He was beautiful in his mortality, his delicacy...Riku had never felt so human. So _alive_.

A firm believer in true love and Kodak moments, Riku had long since made it a rule to close his eyes when he kissed. But this one was so different that he couldn't help a peek, and when he opened his eyes Sora was just arching into his kiss, looking beautiful and strong and fragile and desperate all at the same time. _He closes his eyes too_, Riku thought, overflowing with emotion, cupping Sora's face in his hands. Eyes still shut, Sora smiled at him, bringing his hands to his mouth.

"Love you, Riku," he said, kissing his fingers.

"Love you too," Riku whispered.

After a moment, he closed his eyes again.

* * *

End of 2!

* * *

This chapter was so hard to write. The whole hotel scene veered in three different directions. First, Sora and Riku got into a huge fight. Second, Sora had a major breakdown. Third, the scene didn't even exist, and Riku and Leon had a nice long chat (that will probably be in the next chapter). The problem was that those were all too sad, and I'm savin' up the sad for later. Right now it's fluff, fluff, fluff. Sweeeeet.

Oh, and look up the Bellagio on the net! OO This hotel is BEAUTIFUL. Ri sure is lucky!

Angst hits in two more chapters, methinks. Thanks again for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Holy crap, I'm so, so sorry it took me so long to update. I tried to make up for it with an extra long chapter, and I hope to never have such a huge stretch of inactivity again. My life went haywire, puah. No more excuses...just sorry. I hope I haven't lost many readers, because I still _love_ sharing and writing this story. Um, and I've developed a very different writing style, so after this chapter, the prose may be a little different, hopefully in a good way...I've always had some really clunky sentences, and I want to eliminate that and make my reading more cohesive.

Warnings for this part: Almost-sex, a lot of cursing, vague mentions of touchy subjects. Uncharacteristically, Leon talks quite a bit. And there's angst amid the fluff. (Boys cry in this chapter, ohnoes! 8O) Oh, and I don't own KH. Which I forgot to mention earlier, but you knew that. XD Thanks so much for reading.

* * *

Evening, Softly  
By azneyez

* * *

"Hey Sexy. My name is Muffin DeMaverick, and I'll be your pleasure slave for this evening. I hope you enjoy...um, _joke_, Riku, joke. You're gaping like a fish. And what's that smell?"

Something was burning on the stove, and his spatula was dripping pancake batter all over his socks, but Riku still couldn't quite bring himself to tear his gaze away from his boyfriend. Sora stared back at him bewilderedly, seemingly unaware of how tightly his new jeans were clinging to his narrow hips. Riku reached instinctively to grab his waist, cursed, then withdrew his shaking hands and began to beat his head against the doorframe.

"What the--" _wham_, "--Riku, why are you--?" _wham_, "--Riku, _stop it_!"

Sora grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him away from the door, his expression a mixture of anxiety and amusement.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Muffin--I mean, Sora--d...do you know...do you--"

"Do I know the Muffin Man?" Sora asked with utter seriousness, finally breaking his paralysis. Laughing, Riku seized Sora's shoulders and pulled him into a fierce, lingering kiss. Sora squeaked in surprise, kissing back automatically and curling his arms gently around his waist. Riku managed to get a hand halfway up the back of his shirt before Sora finally shoved him away, gasping for breath. "_Wow_. So what was that for? Is 'muffin' your turn-on word or something?"

"Did you look in a mirror before you came here, darling?"

Sora snorted. "Like I _own_ a mirror, Riku. I comb my hair in the reflection of the microwave."

"Well, you look stunning. I was trying to say, 'do you know how incredible you look?'"

"Oh!" Sora began blushing immediately, looking relieved. "I was afraid you'd think I was hideous. See, I spoiled myself today and got some pants that actually fit."

"I'd buy you clothes, but it would discourage nudity." Riku leaned in to kiss him again and Sora dodged nimbly, pushing him back.

"Hold on, Lover-Boy. Something's burning."

Riku paused, sniffed carefully, then remembered the 'dinner' he had been cooking in the room's kitchenette. "Oh, fuck."

By now, thin streams of dark smoke were wafting into the expansive living room, almost thick enough to trip the fire alarm. Riku raced back to the counter, vaulting over one of the couches and skidding to a halt by the refrigerator. He unplugged the griddle and stared with amazement at the black clump of batter smoking on its hissing surface. Had that _really_ been a pancake once?

"Oh my god, Riku, you have a penthouse suite," Sora whispered from behind him, looking around the room with amazement. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen!"

"You should see the bedroom," Riku said without thinking. He smiled briefly at Sora's glare, then grimaced, staring unhappily at his effort at supper. "Damn it. How did I screw up a freaking pancake?"

"That was a _pancake_? Heh. I thought it was a huge raisin."

Sora glanced around the room one final time, still awed, before smiling and moving to join Riku at the counter. He put his arms comfortingly over his shoulders. They stared at the burnt remains of the pancake for a long moment before Sora tenderly pried the spatula from his fisted hand and scraped it into the sink, saluting solemnly. "It served us well. General Griddlecake will be remembered fondly."

"Hah, yeah. Joke about it. Now what am I supposed to eat?"

"Have you got eggs? Boil yourself an egg or something."

"How the hell should I know how to boil water? I'm not a chef!"

"Well, you turn on the heat...not on the refrigerator, you dummy, on the _stove_...that big dial on..." Sora trailed off as he caught sight of Riku's blank expression, fixing him with an incredulous look. "You've never used a stove?"

"You've never used a condom?" Riku countered, glaring.

"No, really. You've never used a _stove_? Oh. Oh _wow_." Sora shot him a final 'what the hell' glance and went into a fit of giggles, covering his mouth with his hands. "I'm sorry, Ri...it's just...the _irony_..."

"What irony?"

"Well, you'd think that a Vegas stripper is the most cliché character, but...you're the quintessential Spoiled Brat! You've been spoon-fed for twenty-two years and it's finally catching up to you, Princess." His subsiding giggles redoubled as Riku pulled a disgusted face. He leaned heavily on the counter, laughing. "Karma is such a beautiful thing. Oh, karma. Oh, Canada--"

"And I suppose you're a master of the culinary arts."

"I'm a very passable cook, thanks. You'd be surprised what I can do with a pancake."

"Does that have a sexual connotation?"

Sora chose to ignore that last. He pulled himself together and peered into the bowl near the sink, eying it critically. "I think there's enough batter here for me to make you an edible dinner, if you have enough faith in my gastronomic aptitude. You've got Bisquick all over your face. So go take a shower, and then we'll eat, and then I want to take you somewhere special. Sound good?"

Riku smiled appreciatively, hugging him quickly around the shoulders. "You always take such good care of me. Where are we going?"

"Nowhere, until you clean yourself up."

"So that's how it's gonna be."

"You may be the man of the relationship, but I call all the shots."

"We'll see," said Riku with a wink, turning to leave. Sora pulled him back and caught him in a hard, lingering kiss, running his tongue against Riku's lower lip. When they disengaged, he lowered his eyes shyly and tried to move back towards the counter. Riku touched his face, holding him gently in place. "What is it?"

After a moment of hesitation, Sora brought Riku's hand to his mouth and kissed his fingers. "I just really like the idea of cooking for you," he said, smiling nervously. "It's a confirmation that we're a couple; that this is _real_. Silly?"

"Not at all. Two little words and you can slave for me--I mean, _cook_ for me--for all eternity."

"Three little words and you'll be one step closer to those two little words."

"I love you, Sora."

"Love you more." Sora stood on his tiptoes to kiss him on the nose, but he stumbled at the last minute and got his cheek instead. "Seriously, go shower now! Don't you want to spend another sexual-tension-filled night with me? I might let you cop a feel if you hurry up and--"

Riku made a show of bolting out of the room. Laughing, Sora threw the spatula at his retreating back.

* * *

After a dinner of chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs, Riku urged Sora to look around as he did the cleanup. Sora hesitantly poked around the expansive bathrooms, oohed at the wet bar, and made a few perverted comments about the king-sized bed that made Riku groan and threaten to take another cold shower. By the time he had finished exploring, Riku had finished cleaning and was setting off to go. He was hunting down his wallet when Sora pulled back the thick curtains in the sitting room.

"Oh my god, Riku! The _view_!"

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"No! It's--my goodness. It's _breathtaking_! Look over there!"

Riku moved to join him at the window, tucking an arm around his waist and staring critically out at the sea of lights. "Those would be Japanese tourists taking pictures of a street sign...?"

"Not there, Riku, a little up. Wait...get closer."

Sora reached out and pulled Riku closer so they were cheek to cheek, guiding his hand lightly over the pane of glass. His fingers trailed delicately around the vivid lights as he traced the dips and curves of the Paris Casino, marking all the shining edges, his eyes dim with reverence.

"There's an undercurrent of something fresh and romantic here, and not just because I have you," he said, his voice barely audible. "Everyone can feel it. Thousands of couples get married in Las Vegas each year. And the nighttime is always lit with so much color, so much life--there's no need for me to be afraid of the dark anymore, because I don't have to face it when I'm here. No more pitch-blackness for me, thanks. The dark isn't really dark. It's just...evening. Softly."

"That's beautiful," Riku whispered, turning to look at him. Sora smiled and brushed their lips together, closing his eyes.

"This is beautiful. _We're_ beautiful."

They kissed, practiced and elegant not in experience, but in spontaneity. Riku closed his fingers around Sora's and was struck again by how small his hand was; how delicate--and how _adept_, as they slowly worked their way up his chest and brushed against one of the buttons on his shirt. Barely breathing, Riku kissed a path down Sora's neck. As soon as his lips were feathering across Sora's collarbone, his younger lover was unfastening his top with shy desire, pushing the fabric down off his back. One brush of that much-needed contact--palm to the smooth skin of Riku's shoulder--and he groaned, struggling to hold onto his self-control.

"Sora..._shit_," he said raggedly. "I love you, but stop teasing...I can't take it when..."

"Shush." Sora's breath was hot near his ear, making him shiver. They were breathing in tandem, and their stomachs kept brushing together. "Please, stop worrying. Just go with it. Actions speak louder than words...so if--"

Riku kissed him again, hard. Sora whimpered into his mouth, catching the zipper of Riku's jeans and tugging it down in one smooth motion. His fingers played across the elastic of his shorts.

"S-Sora!"

Neither of them heard the beeping of the door's electronic lock.

"--Riku, I hope you're decent, I--ah, shit."

"_Jesus_!"

Riku nearly jumped out of his skin, banging Sora hard against the window out of agitation as his fingers slipped against the pane. He thrashed upwards, struggling for balance. "_Dad_, what the _fuck_! Can you fucking _knock_?"

"Profanity," said his father, startlingly unfazed for having just caught his son in the midst of very promising, sweaty foreplay. "Your language is unprofessional. Work on that."

"Work on _this_." Riku raised his middle finger.

"I've missed you too."

Riku opened his mouth furiously, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but Sora pressed a hand quickly to his lips. They exchanged quick glances. Sora wasn't looking terribly happy, but he managed a small, sympathetic smile and reached to refasten the button on Riku's pants. _Finish later_, he mouthed. Letting out a grim breath, Riku nodded, catching his elbow and moving to vacate the room.

They were nearly to the door when Mr. Marshak intercepted them.

"Hold on. Aren't you going to introduce me to your new flavor-of-the-week?"

"_Dad_!" Riku yelled, livid, but Sora was already reaching forward courteously to shake hands.

"Sora DeMaverick, sir. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," the man returned, eying him disparagingly. He was frowning. "I've seen you before, I think. Maybe on the streets. Barhopping. Where do you work?"

"Anywhere they hire," said Sora, turning back to Riku. "Shall we go?"

"In a minute." Marshak retreated further into the room, tossing his coat onto the couch. "Riku, I'd like to have a word with you privately before you go."

"No. We've wasted enough time talking."

"I think you'll want to hear this."

Resigned, Riku gave Sora an apologetic peck on the lips and leaned against the doorframe. He waited until Sora had disappeared down the hall before speaking. "This had better be good."

"It is," Marshak assured. He was smiling faintly. "I've been on a bar crawl these past few nights. Strictly business, you understand--my clientele often requests my company outside the formality of the office. Out of propriety, I've experienced quite a spectrum of Vegas nightlife. Pole-dancers and street performers...prostitutes..."

"Make your point," Riku said flatly.

"Have you ever asked your new boyfriend about his profession?"

Riku flared up. "He's a stripper. And what the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"A stripper, is that what he told you? Mm, I see he put it in the politest of terms. I would've called him a hooker."

Fury numbed him. He could hear his heart beating in his ears.

His father continued, his voice gaining heat. "Did you ever visit his workplace? It's not even on the Strip. It's not _classy_ enough. It's a dark little fetish club where old men go to get blowjobs from boys in skirts. A dollar for a feel, five for a lap dance. Is that where you picked him up? Seems like it's a principal resource for deviants."

His last thread of patience snapped. Riku lunged forward, knocking aside an end table and sending the lamp crashing to the ground. The bulb shattered and sputtered out as he closed his shaking fists around the collar of his dad's shirt, breath hissing out through clenched teeth.

"I've taken enough shit from you about my sexuality. Doesn't even affect me anymore. But don't you dare drag Sora into this. You know what? I think you're just jealous that I've finally found someone who's important to me. For the past--what is it, seven years?--you've tried to convince me that I don't deserve happiness. Well, fuck you. I have a right to be in love. And I can't believe that you think a few words from you will change my feelings toward him."

Emotion choked off the rest of his words. He withdrew, shaking with adrenaline. Suddenly all that mattered was getting back to Sora, and he turned and began walking in quick, unstable strides.

Marshak couldn't resist a parting jibe: "He seems to like you. Maybe he'll give you a discount."

Riku slammed the door.

Sora was standing at the shadowy end of the hall, silhouetted against the window with both palms flat on the glass. The view there faced into the darkness, away from the radiance of the Strip. Riku stepped towards him timidly, clenching his hands in his pockets to still them, suddenly uncertain.

"Hey. Let's...go. We should go now."

No response. He took a deep breath and closed the gap between them in a brisk stroll, laying his hands on Sora's shoulders. Sora caught his coat and held on tight. His unsteady grip indicated that he'd caught the gist of their conversation.

"What did he say about me?" Sora demanded, his voice quivering. "Did that bastard call me a whore?"

"Sora," said Riku tentatively, tugging at his sleeve. Sora refused to budge.

"Well, it's not true! And it's not _fair_!" For just a moment he tottered on the edge of tears, then he burst out, furious and strong and dignified. "If you can find me a higher paying job, then I'm so gone, but I _need_ the cash! It's trashy, but I'm _not_ a whore. I'm _surviving_, Riku. I'm doing what I need to do to _live_."

"I'm not judging you," Riku insisted.

"Good, because I'm just trying to make it in this city like everyone else," Sora snapped. "I could be on the streets right now, prostituting myself and making ten times the money I make now! But I will not compromise my being. I have my _virtue_. Even if your father can't see it."

Riku put a finger to his lips.

It seemed to provide the calming effect Sora needed. He closed his mouth, shoulders heaving with emotion, tensing his expression and struggling to regain his composure. He let go of Riku's jacket, leaving crescent-shaped fingernail marks in the fabric.

"I don't know why I'm ranting to you, of all people," he said finally. "You're the one who understands."

Silence. Sora leaned against the glass again, sighing.

"Say something, so I know it's okay."

"You're cute when you're mad," Riku responded cheerfully. Sora looked up at him disbelievingly and laughed. The giggled faded into coughs, and Riku sat him down on the windowsill, lovingly brushing his hair out of his face.

"I think you need to sleep. This was a rough day, and you sound exhausted. We can go out another time, okay?"

"No," Sora argued. "I wanted to take you someplace special tonight."

"Your getting some rest is more important."

He sighed again. "But I don't want to ditch you."

"We're going to be together for a long time, I know it. Take a day to get sleep. We have an eternity of tomorrows."

Sora smiled, his mouth trembling a little. "Damn it, Riku. Every time you want me to do something that I don't want to do, you whip out the poetry and I go weak in the knees."

He reached to help Sora to his feet. "Figurative language is my weapon of choice. C'mon, let's get you home."

They were both faint in the aftermath of intense emotion, but somehow they managed to stand and began making their way slowly to the elevator. Their arms were locked around each other's waists, and they kept tripping each other. Neither mentioned it--it was just one of those things that might've pulled a weaker couple apart, but Riku continued to hold onto him. Dimly, in the part of his mind that wasn't clouded with concern, he felt Sora's fingers tighten on his arm. Without thinking, he squeezed back.

* * *

"Did he fall asleep?"

"He was out like a light. He must've been tired...much, much more than he let on. I'm really worried about him."

"Hn. He worries us all."

Leon knelt and began shuffling through the drawers under the desk. Riku awkwardly fiddled with his car keys, unsure whether or not their conversation was over. Though he and Leon were acquainted, thanks to one of Sora's dinner get-togethers, he still couldn't figure out what the man thought of him.

He found it strange that Cloud and Leon should be such a close couple. Cloud was vivacious and witty, always talking and laughing and treating Riku so comfortably he felt as if they'd been friends for years instead of weeks. He was almost unnaturally lively, a party guy. Leon, on the other hand...well, Leon was quiet. He didn't smile often. And he was commandingly handsome. For that reason, Riku always felt uncomfortable around him--his appearance added more maturity to his aura; a larger sense of his being an adult. This was a guy who'd been on the rough side of the tracks before. If Cloud and Sora were the glitz of Vegas, Leon was one of the worldlier, more realistic characters. The ones like Riku saw from his window when he'd first arrived from New York.

Leon coughed. Riku suddenly realized he'd been staring and quickly adverted his glance, inwardly cursing. The silence droned on for another few seconds before he made a clumsy gesture to leave. "Um, hey, I should probably go."

"Stay for a minute," said Leon. "I'd like to talk."

Startled, Riku turned back to him questioningly. "I don't want to be a nuisance--"

"You're not."

There was another lull in conversation. Riku distractedly examined the business cards on the counter as Leon tended to some customers--some man who was obviously inebriated, and a thin woman who signed herself into the hotel as 'Annie Oakley.' Riku looked after them with skepticism as they stumbled up the stairs, laughing hysterically and clawing at each other, barely able to keep themselves upright.

"Do you get people like that coming in all the time?"

"Sora is the only guest here who is consistently sober when he checks in."

"Doesn't it get tiring, constantly seeing people intoxicated like that? It would wreak havoc on my morale."

Leon shrugged. "It's not so bad. Sora sees more of it at his work than I do, I think."

Riku frowned. "I don't like the idea of him being in that type of atmosphere. I know where he's employed, it's just--I'm not sure. Tonight was the first time I learned about the conditions of his workplace, and I got the info second-hand. He just doesn't feel comfortable talking about it to me yet, I guess."

"It's _because_ he's comfortable with you that he doesn't talk about it."

"I don't understand that."

Leon leaned over the counter and folded his arms, his eyes dark and serious. "I've known Sora for almost six years, and I've realized that when he meets someone he loves, he clams up. Puts the skeletons back in the closet; pretends that they don't exist. He's afraid you won't love him if you know the details."

"Bullshit," said Riku, feeling upset. "How can he even think that?"

"It's nothing personal. He's just been through so much. He knows how to love, but it's so mixed up in other emotions...his fear, his insecurity, defensiveness--self-loathing, even. You were unexpected. Sora swore off dating a while ago, under the impression that he was incapable of being in a relationship. Thanks for showing him the light."

"He deserves to be loved," said Riku, feeling awkward.

"Yes, he does."

Riku paused briefly before timidly voicing one of his most daunting concerns. "I don't think anyone before has given him the love he deserves. Is that right?"

"Yes." He shot Riku a sideways glance. "Has he spoken to you about his past affairs?"

"Not directly, no."

"I'm not surprised."

He moved from behind the counter, removing a pack of cigarettes and offering one to Riku, who declined. Leon put one between his lips and lit it, cupping his hand to guard the flame. In the glow of the fire, his face was somehow older, more tragic. He took a deep drag before beginning to speak, his voice velvety and low.

"When Sora was fourteen, he got really heavily involved with the owner of some club off the Strip. This man--if you can even call him a man; he was filth, he was _nothing_—he was in his forties, and he was solely responsible for drafting Sora into the adult enterprises prematurely. By his fifteenth birthday, Sora was dancing on bars and downing shots with the best of them, and that's the reason for his present-day line of work. He never really escaped his past demons. He's been poisoned into thinking that the only thing he can do with himself is take off his clothes and dance on grimy stages. Even though we know that's not what he wants."

Riku heard Sora's dismal voice in his head. _I could never make it as a country singer_, he'd said. _I love to sing, it's truly my passion, but I can't so much as carry a tune_.

"He dated the bastard for almost two years," Leon continued, lowering his head and chewing lightly on the end of the cigarette. "Then he came home one night, completely smashed, so drunk he could hardly stand. When Cloud and I were putting him to bed, he finally started talking. Told us everything."

Another drag. He was just stalling, trying to gather the strength to say it.

"I couldn't bear to ask for details," he said finally. "There was substance abuse involved, and there were sexual acts."

"He wasn't...forced, was he?" Riku asked, his breath catching in his throat. "Because Cloud said he's never--"

"No, and it's a miracle that Sora's still technically a virgin, after everything that's happened. Someone up there must really love him." Leon cynically made the sign of a cross on himself. "But that situation didn't end with divine intervention. It ended with Cloud. He was enraged, and we both went to his club and broke them up for good."

"That simple?"

"It's never that simple, but I'll spare you the grisly details."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before Leon straightened, turning away and tending to a stack of paperwork. There was a photograph of Sora taped on the file cabinet. Leon tenderly touched its corners as he spoke.

"That's the story. Sora went through therapy, stopped drinking, swore off love--and here where I usually say 'the end,' but...then he met you. It's...more of a beginning than an end."

Riku's eyes were stinging with tears. He pursed his lips, fighting to blink them back.

Leon reached across the counter and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm sure Cloud has already requested this of you, Riku, but--be good to Sora. Please. He deserves someone in his life. He has so much untapped love inside him. People rarely make good first impressions on me, but something in your eyes tells me to trust you."

Absurdly touched, he opened his mouth to reply, but the phone rang and surprised them both of out of the moment. Leon picked up the receiver.

"Scholz Savoy Hotel, may I help you? Yes, we have vacancies. I'll book you on the third floor. I have a list of accommodations, if you're interested in selecting a specific room."

Taking that as his cue to leave, Riku nodded to Leon, who raised a hand in farewell.

He was halfway to his car when he paused, glancing back over his shoulder at Sora's window on the ground floor.

_You're stronger than you know, baby. You're beautiful. You're amazing. It would be so easy for you to give up and abandon your morals, yet you're still fighting. And for that, I'll always do my best to make your life worth living. If I been in your shoes, been put through all the things you've endured, I might've just curled up and died...but I thank God that you are who you are. Because if you'd been any less of an incredible person and given up early, I never would have met you._

His mind made, he retrieved a pen and a slip of paper from his car, then reentered through the backdoors of the hotel and went to sit in front of Sora's room. He had a key, but he didn't want to disturb him. Instead, he scribbled words that flowed forth with adoring ease, and by the time he'd finished, he was crying.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing the paper--wrinkled by tears--and slipping it under the door. "Goodnight, Sora...and sweet dreams. Please."

* * *

Sora unfolded the note in the clean light of morning, one hand over his mouth, the sun catching the tears glistening on his cheeks:

_The top ten things I love about you  
10. That thing you do with your tongue when you eat pizza crusts  
9. The way your fingers fit in mine  
8. The way you always surprise me, when I think I know exactly what you'll say  
7. How your eyes darken when we watch sad movies  
6. The little sway in your hips when you walk  
5. The way you tremble when we kiss  
4. The way your smell makes me think of heaven  
3. Your ankles, because despite what you think, they aren't fat, they are beautiful (like the rest of you!)  
2. The way you humble me; the way you make life beautiful  
And 1...How when I'm with you, I feel as if "forever" isn't long enough._

* * *

End of part 3

Dear lord. That was so much heavier than I intended. Please let me know what you thought; I'm concerned I'm laying it on too thick. (Admittedly, I love a "sweeping romance!" atmosphere. XD) Now I'm really going to respond to reviews, and I'll be very happy to answer questions! I value reader input like crazy; I've already altered the original plot a little as per suggestions. Thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Such a late update; such a horribly, horribly late update. Two things in my defense: I started college, which is crazy, and this is the probably going to be the longest, most drama-filled chapter in the entire story. I wish I were a faster writer, and I can't apologize enough...but I like to be absolutely comfortable with a chapter before I submit it. Incredible thanks to all the readers who are patient enough to put up with my mega-slow updates. I'm trying the responding-to-reviews thing again! Hit me up with questions.

And ohbaby, ohbaby, PLEASE check out Gin no Ame's fanart. The link is in my author's profile, and it is absolutely _amazing_. I still don't think it's fair that some people write AND draw beautifully, but I'll forgive her, because she's awesome. Thank you, Gin, you kick ass!

Warnings for this chapter: bastardization of Xemnas (because he _is_ one) and Xigbar (mostly because he kicked my ass in the game). Cameos and mentions of Axel/Roxas. Abundances of four-letter words, strippers, implied rape, and non-graphic sexual activity--but I will be writing an uncensored version as well; feel free message me if you're interested! But, most importantly, _angst_. Angst angst angst. It has begun.

* * *

Evening, Softly  
By azneyez

* * *

"The thing about bright lights," said Cloud, nodding through the humid twilight towards the Strip, "is that they tend to produce a lot of shadow."

It was a dingy building, loud and reeking of cigarette smoke, its crumbling brick walls masked behind pinups with tattered corners. Men in black coats littered the entrance, many of them occupied by the club's young and magnificent workforce. The word _Ambrosis_ shone through the darkness in glimmering yellow neon, transforming the boys into stunning, dark creatures; jagged pieces in the mirror of Las Vegas nighttime. This place was _raw_, primal. _Sora works here_, Riku thought, and felt his stomach curl around the first pangs of grief. He jumped when Leon placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Sora's higher class than this Welcome Wagon," he reassured.

"He's the _star_," Cloud explained, unable to mask the disgust in his voice. "He's the face of Ambrosis, with his own dressing room, his own slobbering fan club. They play him up like he's the goddamn queen of the universe."

"He's the queen of the _underground_," Leon said fiercely, and as Cloud and Riku turned to glance at him, startled by his sudden vehemence, he swept open the doors to the club.

The noise hit him like a truck. For one wild moment, Riku could hear nothing beyond a steady heartbeat of bass, so heavy and visceral that he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He tried to make out the silhouette of the bar through the flashing strobes. Cloud let him look for a few seconds before shoving him along, towards the tables. "He's not out yet!" he shouted over the music. "If he was putting on a show, you'd know it!"

Even the _air_ tasted alcoholic. Riku sat down heavily, his head spinning.

On either side of the bar, a few scantily clad boys were flirting with their eager patrons and handing out shots. One of them--a young, sweet-eyed blonde--noticed their arrival and immediately began waving off his customers, hastily sliding off the counter. He grabbed a cover-up on his way to their table, pulling it tight around the sinuous curves of his body.

"Long time, no see," Cloud said as he arrived, kissing him on the cheek. "Please tell me you're still in one piece."

The boy smiled halfheartedly. He looked a lot like Sora, but his hair was lighter and his eyes were oceans sadder. "I think I'm in about a thousand pieces right now, but no one in this city is whole," he said with tragic delicacy. "Guess we're all searching for something."

"Amen," said Leon.

Cloud squeezed the boy's hand and turned to Riku. "Roxas, this is Riku. Riku, this is the only sane person in Sora's professional life."

Roxas shrugged. "I keep his feet on the ground, that's all."

"Then I owe you one," Riku said, more softly than he'd intended. He examined Roxas--a young man with his whole life ahead of him, mature, intelligent, achingly beautiful, not even twenty-five and already weighed down with the sorrows of a sixty-year-old war veteran. Seeing him confirmed what Riku had always suspected, but had not been courageous enough to admit: Ambrosis was no place for _dog_, let alone a human being.

"I thought you were done taking drink orders," Cloud said to Roxas.

"I thought so too, but I'm pulling double-duty tonight." Roxas glanced sideways at the bar. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted. Apparently, Xemnas thinks I'm exceptionally well-suited for grab-assing and serving Smirnoffs to the pigs."

"Who's Xemnas?" asked Riku.

"Xemnas," Cloud muttered, his eyes flickering coldly. For a split second, Riku could see shadows swimming in the blue irises--decades of pent-up emotion, brewing with quiet fury, like a storm. Then Cloud sighed, and the moment passed. "Xemnas is the boss. He runs Ambrosis. Twisted, creepy--"

"--_powerful_," Leon finished.

"He's got me and Sora under his thumb," Roxas said. "We can't even sneeze without his permission. He used to make me booze it up with the customers until three, four in the morning, six days a week. I got pretty accustomed to passing out."

Riku felt the blood drain from his face. "That's fucking sick."

"He let up on me recently. I've got something going with Axel, a close friend of his...he sits back now, lets me to do my job." He checked his watch. "Speaking of which, I should go get changed. Sora and I are your entertainment tonight. Riku, do you want to come back with me? Say hi?"

"Yes, please!" It came out too roughly, with an edge of desperation. He was doing his best to curb his anxiety--after all, Sora had been working in the club for months without incident--but each story shocked him a little more. He moved to stand and realized that his legs were shaking. In his unfailing ability to catch him just when he needed it, Leon gently grabbed his elbow and helped him to his feet.

"I know," he said, pitching his voice low so only Riku could hear him. "It's like he's standing in the middle of a busy street."

"That truck could hit him any time," Riku whispered, and even through the euphemism, his stomach felt heavy with dread.

"You know what to do, right?"

"Tell me."

"Get him out of the road," Leon said simply.

Before he could respond, Roxas took his arm and pulled him into the crowd.

They had to fight their way down to the bar. Halfway there, a cluster of aggressive drunks insisted on buying them drinks, and Roxas dismissed them with professional efficiency after a few polite sips. By the time they reached the backroom, they were disheveled, winded, and a little buzzed. They stood there in the hallway for just a minute, catching their breath under the thin glow cast by the bare light bulbs dotting the ceiling. Riku smiled at Roxas, helplessly, and Roxas grinned back and pushed himself away from the wall.

"I get a rush every time I push through that throng of bastards," he panted, fanning himself off with his hands. "It's like suicide, except slower."

"This whole place is one huge gamble," said Riku.

Roxas nodded. His smile had slipped a notch. "Russian roulette, staked on one's innocence...shit, that sounds pretty awful."

"Are you--" Riku began, then cut himself off sharply, grimacing at what had almost slipped out.

But it turned out he'd said enough. Roxas studied his hands for a long moment, standing very still and very firm in the center of the corridor. "Am _I_? No, I'm not," he said, forcing a smile. "When I came to work here, I was...careless. Too trusting. It only took me a minute to lose something I'd held onto for twenty-one years, and...I should've said no, but I was too scared to fight back. He grabbed my wrists. I had bruises for two weeks, and I had to stare at them every single time I slung a drink or reached for a goddamn tissue."

"Roxas," Riku whispered.

"Hey, now," Roxas said, his voice weak. "Everyone's got a sob story. This is just one."

"Did you tell someone? Press charges, fuck, _anything_?"

"I checked with every legal source I could find. The fact is, I didn't tell him to stop. I never had trouble vocalizing before, but the one time I needed to cry out--I just--I couldn't--" he paused on that shaky, despairing note. Exhaled slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was light. "Well, welcome to Vegas, the City of Soap Operas."

Riku couldn't find the words. He touched the boy's sleeve, questioningly tender.

"I'm really fine," Roxas assured him. He smiled again, and a little spark came back into his eyes. "I mentioned Axel, my new boyfriend? He gives me everything I need. Wipes away the tears, picks me up when I stumble...all those clichés. You know...what you do for Sora."

"No. No, I haven't done anything for him. He's still suffering."

"Being there for someone isn't taking away their pain," Roxas said. "It's wrapping that pain in something stronger, like hope, or love, and praying that you're strong enough to push through together."

He walked to the room at the end of the hall and placed his hand on the doorknob, hesitating. Then he glanced back over his shoulder and caught Riku's eyes with sudden power.

"Watch out for Sora," he said, his voice harsh. "Xemnas has got it in for him. I was the last he had, and he's been looking to take a bite out of something new."

Riku only had time to turn to him in shock before the door flew open.

"Roxas, you skank!" Sora yelled, throwing his arms around his friend's neck. The two of them shared prissy little cheek kisses and a fierce hug, their bodies fitting together with brotherly ease. Sora pulled back first, affectionately patting his cheek. "You made it back here alive on a Saturday evening. I don't know how you do it!"

"Pepper spray," Roxas said modestly.

"Shut up, it's your natural charm. How's the crowd?"

"Crazy. Give them a few minutes, and they'll be so drunk a foxtrot will seem sexy."

"Cripes, after all those hours of choreographing salacious little dance numbers, we could've just--" he broke off abruptly, finally noting Riku's presence. He shied behind the doorway immediately, seizing the hem of his shirt and futilely trying to draw it down to cover his legs. His voice jumped half an octave. "Riku, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Came to see the show," Riku said, finally tearing his gaze away from Roxas.

Sora bit his lip and said nothing, his eyes flickering downwards.

The silence was heavy and sudden, like the fall of a thick curtain. Roxas cleared his throat after a moment's pause, nudging Sora's chin with small, deft fingers. "Hey, it's okay. This is your _boyfriend_, stupid. He's not here to judge you." He glanced at Riku, sympathetic and resigned. "You probably realized it by now, but you picked one who requires constant maintenance."

"He's...like a rose. Beautiful, but he needs tending so he won't wilt."

"More of that poetry," Sora said weakly. He pretended to stagger into the wardrobe. "Take my breath away, why don't you?"

Roxas shot Riku a thumbs up and tiptoed back to the hallway. He closed the door on his way out, leaving the two of them to contemplate each other in silence and uncertainty. Sora was the first to move, stepping into the light and nervously smoothing out his costume.

At first, Riku could only stare. His dad had been wrong about the dress at Ambrosis--partly, at least. Sora wasn't wearing a skirt, but the shorts were revealing enough to exhibit smooth, curvaceous thighs and lacy garters. His shirt was short-sleeved and silken, cut in a low V and ending at the midriff. White gloves, white everything. The only dark parts of his attire were the black boots, laced up tight. _Because he's sensitive about his ankles_, Riku thought, swallowing hard. The lust that rose in him was unbidden and hot and damn near irrepressible.

"So," Sora said shyly.

Riku crossed his arms around his waist and pulled him painfully close, felt the firm, flat muscles of Sora's stomach brushing against his. His nighttime scent was dark and fiery, but not unfamiliar. This was still Sora. Riku would still kill for him, and die for him.

"This is my stripper mode," Sora mumbled, his voice muffled in Riku's shoulder. "My cheap flipside. You were never supposed to see--"

"Shut up, Drama Queen." Riku kissed the base of his throat, feeling Sora tremble beneath his lips. "You're magnificent."

"Don't," Sora said, panicking. "Please, don't like this part of me. I hate it so much."

"I need to love all of you, Sora. I can't love in pieces."

He gingerly touched one of the garters. The lace was rough, but the ribbon was soft and faintly pink. Tucked carefully behind the knot was the switchblade Sora had mentioned before. Seeing it there made Riku wince, imagining how many times it had been his only defense.

Sora sensed his discomfort and squeezed his arm. "Guess what?"

"What?" Riku said, kissing his lower lip.

"When I really think about it...all these years, I've been doing this for you. Every day before I do a show, I tell myself that there's a man somewhere in the audience, sitting in the dark where I can't see him. He's my true love, and everything I do is for him. He doesn't care how much skin I show because he's looking at my heart."

Someone pounded at the door. "One minute, DeMaverick!"

"Fine!" Sora yelled back. He turned to Riku, nervously chewing his lip. "I should get in place. Roxas and I are doing this whole 'good and evil' partner dance, and our timing has to be perfect."

"Knock 'em dead," said Riku, reluctantly letting go of his hands.

Sora smiled with difficulty, unable to manage his trademark million-dollar grin. He ran through a few quick, anxious dance moves. "I can do this," he said aloud, more to himself than to Riku. "I can do this; I am strong enough to do this."

"How many times do we have to go through this? Sora, you can do _anything_."

"Could I go to Hawaii?"

"Patience. We'll get there. Honeymoon, how about?"

"It's a date!" Sora finally brightened. With renewed determination, he raced back and caught Riku in an ardent, full-bodied hug. Then he hurried back towards the door. "Hey, do me a favor?" he called over his shoulder, as he disappeared into backstage area. "Sit up front, where I can see you. Tonight's the night that my mystery man gets a face!"

When Riku returned to the table with Cloud and Leon, everyone was going wild.

"Show's starting," said Cloud simply, grinning.

* * *

To put it lightly, Sora and Roxas took down the house.

Even executing the same routine, they brought contrast through delicious little nuances: Roxas moved with an effortless, flowing sex appeal, while Sora held himself diffidently, lightly. Both had unbelievable stage presence. Each time they lost an article of clothing, the noise from the crowd increased exponentially. The music was atypical for a club--the World is Not Enough, by Garbage--but it was slow and sensual and dramatic, and about eighty decibels too loud. Riku came close to stepping out for fresh air.

Then Sora caught his gaze, his eyes so blue and blazing with the power of the performance, and all the sound just dropped away.

* * *

The show went on for half an hour, give or take, and it seemed to end far too quickly. Before the audience had even finished roaring their approval, Sora was off the bar, sweaty and keyed-up, clinging to the front of Riku's shirt and kissing him fiercely.

"Let's go, gotta go," he chanted, pulling him out of his chair. "Can't stay here a second longer than I have to; I need to run! We'll let Roxas pick up all the tips. He deserves it."

"Shouldn't you change first?"

"I have a jacket in the car," Cloud said, digging in his pockets for his keys.

"If you could grab it for me, Riku, I'll meet you outside," Sora said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I need to tell Xemnas that I'm leaving now."

"No!" Riku shouted out immediately, startling them. "I'll tell him."

"Ri, it's fine," Sora said, confused. "Have Leon and Cloud been telling you horror stories? He's creepy and overbearing, but I really don't think he would hurt anyone."

He could see Roxas in his mind's eye, new and young and compliant, cornered in the back of his dressing room where no one could hear him crying out. Too frightened to move. The bruises wrapping around his pale wrists. Sora's hand was cupped in his own, and he only realized he was squeezing too hard when Sora winced and made a soft, strangled noise. "_Sora_," Riku whispered urgently, letting go of his fingers. "Please, _please_ don't go back there alone."

"Okay, I won't," Sora said, only hesitating for a second. "But it would've been okay."

"Do you know something we don't?" Leon asked Riku, his eyes narrowed.

"It's...not my place to say."

Cloud must've had suspicions, because he all but flipped out, standing up so fast that he knocked over his chair. "I _pray_ this isn't what I think it is," he hissed, drawing up his sleeves. "Is it Roxas? Because I swear to god, Riku, if that bastard--"

"Who, Xemnas?" Sora asked, bewildered.

Leon stood up as well, calmly. "Riku, take Sora home."

Sora began to protest. "Leon, tell me what's--"

"I will. Later."

"You said we had to be somewhere by twelve," Riku reminded him, eager to get him away from the impending scene. Cloud was livid, and he had a feeling that things were going to get ugly.

"Riku...!"

"Let's go." He took Sora's elbow and pulled him toward the exit. After struggling against him for a few steps, Sora threw him off, annoyed.

"Why does everyone try to shelter me?" he demanded, yanking open the door. Fresh evening air poured in, and they stepped out into the darkness. "I'm twenty-one! I'm not a child. And if I act like one, it's because that's how people treat me!"

A tall, dark-haired man stood outside the entrance, smoking a cigarette. "Maybe it's because you look like you're about sixteen," he broke in with casual audacity, overhearing the latter part of their conversation. He wore sunglasses despite the fact that it was nearing eleven-thirty. They could hear the smile in his voice. "Most people would kill for a young piece of ass. I'd count it as a blessing, Sugar."

Riku immediately moved to jump to his defense, but Sora was already snapping back, too tired and irritated to bother with his typical pleasantries. The ends of his words were rounded subtly in a Southern twang. "If you call me that again in polite company, I'll scratch your other eye out."

The man took another pull on his cigarette, unimpressed. "Somebody's touchy about his stripper name."

"Somebody's off duty. Hire a hooker if you're that desperate."

"Dirty mouth for the purported celibate."

"Doesn't matter, Xigbar, you'll never get close enough to know," Sora said, turning to leave.

Xigbar grabbed his arm and yanked him back, hard. His gloved fingers bit viciously into Sora's bare forearms. Riku came within an inch of bashing the man's teeth in, but Sora held him off with a short wave of his hand, his face calm.

"You have my attention, darling," he said with exaggerated patience. "Go ahead and tell me what you want."

"Same thing everyone wants," Xigbar muttered, gripping his chin between thumb and forefinger and licking at his jaw line. "I want to see if you taste as sweet as you look."

Sora leaned forward and placed his mouth right next to Xigbar's ear, as if disclosing a crucial secret. "_Sweeter_. But this man here..." he indicated Riku with a brief, loving glance, "is my one-and-only. My _patron_, in case you only understand relationships in terms of prostitution. He thinks I'm worth six hundred dollars a day for the rest of my life. Can you beat that?"

Xigbar paused to take that into stride. The corners of his lips twisted into some parody of a smile. "I do believe that breaks the cardinal rule of Ambrosis, DeMaverick. Should I tell Xemnas that you're screwing with someone outside the club's clientele? He'd be more than happy to beat you back into line."

This time, Riku couldn't be contained. He shoved Xigbar hard, rattling the panes of glass in the door.

"Try it," he snarled. Never mind that the guy was a good six inches taller, and every time he moved, the muscles in his arms rippled beneath his coat. Behind him, he heard Sora's breath catch. Sora seized the back of his jacket in brutal double handfuls, more out of fear reflex than caution.

"Don't start this with me, kid," Xigbar warned. The good humor had gone out of his words. "I'll snap your fucking arms off."

"Then I'll start biting," Riku said, deadpan.

"We're done with this," Sora broke in, stepping between them. Riku instinctively threw his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders, and Sora complied, holding onto his lapels and dragging him away from Xigbar. "None of us want any trouble. Let's all just walk away."

"I'll nail your ass," Xigbar promised as they headed towards the car. "You're cheating profits from Xemnas, and I guarantee you'll be paying for the reparations in bed."

"Put it on my tab," Sora called back half-heartedly, already losing interest.

They reached the Civic. Riku opened the door for him, then went around to sit in the driver's seat and promptly locked the doors. They stared at each other in silence for a long time, breathing hard. Riku cupped Sora's face with his shaking hands. His thumbs explored the smooth contours of his cheeks, his temples, his lips, red from being anxiously bitten. Sora smiled, nuzzling his palm. He reached up and brushed a few errant strands of hair from Riku's face.

"Your place," Sora said. "I've got something to show you at midnight."

They drove there without a word, the radio crooning quiet classical over the speakers. Sora fiddled with his seatbelt and watched the clock. The digital readout was at 11:59 by the time they pulled in front of the Bellagio, overlooking the giant expanse of fountains.

"What is this?" Riku asked, glancing around at the gathered tourists.

"It's Vegas," said Sora with a smile, squeezing his hand. "It's a facet you missed, because you're such a cynic."

Riku snorted. He was just opening his mouth to refute the statement when the fountains erupted into a plethora of music and light, instantly and completely robbing him of speech.

The jets moved in gentle waves across the water's surface, twirling with every note, surging lightly through the air up to impossible heights. They came back down in slow cascades after what seemed like an eternity, misting the crowd lightly, like soft rain. Riku turned to Sora. His face was perfectly tranquil, glowing as white as porcelain. He wasn't so much beautiful as he was _divine_. Riku had to touch his shoulder, just to make sure he was really awake, really _here_, standing next to an angel before the most stunning exemplar of man-made beauty he'd ever seen.

It was Elton John's "Your Song." The significance of the words made his throat swell. He held out a hand to Sora, who stared at it for a moment, smiling, then accepted.

He was never a dancer, but they flowed together with a natural grace imparted from pure, unself-conscious adoration. They waltzed, not caring who was watching. Sora hummed lightly at first, under his breath, then a little louder, until he was finally singing perceptible words.

"You can tell everybody this is your song...it might be quite simple but now that it's done..."

His voice was clear, perfectly on key. He was going to make it as a singer, Riku knew right then, folding him a little tighter into his arms. He was going to do amazing things.

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words...how wonderful life is, while you're in the world..."

Riku lost himself in the notes of his boyfriend's voice, trying to hold onto the moment forever.

They lingered in the embrace ten minutes after the show had ended, swaying to the beat only they could hear.

* * *

He refused Sora again as they lay together in the bed of pale satin sheets. _Don't give anything to me yet_, he'd said as Sora feathered his fingers over his bare chest. _It hasn't even been a month... we still need time to see if all our promises will hold_.

_I want it,_ Sora whispered between kisses. _I want you; I'm ready for you_.

He respected him too much to take him up on the offer. Said no. Braced himself for a fight, for a new bout of insecurity. But Sora only looked deep into his eyes and stroked his face, reaching past the elastic band of his boxers and closing his hand tightly around his arousal. With only a few slow, meticulous strokes, he brought Riku to a crippling climax. Riku couldn't even scream. His entire body imploded with ecstasy, and he saw about a million stars.

Sora kissed him passionately as he shuddered from the intensity of his release. _My signature is already on the dotted line_, he said, touching his sweaty forehead. _I'm just waiting for you_.

* * *

He woke up to the sound of metal hooks screeching against the curtain rods. Someone was ripping open the drapes.

"Rise and shine," his father said with uncharacteristic cheerfulness, drawing up the shades. "Our plane leaves at three o' clock; don't forget your toothbrush."

It was too fucking early for this. Riku groaned into his pillow and tried to roll back under the covers. It was only after he met the soft, shapely roadblock of Sora's body that everything snapped into place, filling his heart with ice. He sat bolt upright in bed.

Clothes were strewn everywhere. Half-packed suitcases cluttered every surface, rapidly collecting shoes, socks, toiletries, and ties. The only thing that remained untouched was his easel in the corner, where, the first night after meeting Sora, he'd tentatively began penciling the figure of a young man with vivid blue eyes. He glanced down to touch Sora's lips, supple from sleep, then turned to his father.

"I'm not going," he said.

"Of course you are," Marshak returned immediately, with a perfect confidence that made Riku's blood boil.

"Who the fuck are _you_ to tell me what I will or won't do?"

"I'm your father. Whether you like it or not, I know you better than anyone else alive. And I know that you're too selfish to call off a business tour ten years in the making just for some dewy-eyed whore."

Riku ripped off his covers, fumbling them in his rage. "Stop calling him that!" he shouted. Sora awoke with a start, reaching for his arm, but Riku fought away from the touch. He'd never felt so out of control in his life. He wanted to kill something, tear holes in his own skin. "You don't know _shit_ about me! You don't know _anything_! You don't even know when my fucking birthday is!"

"You know even less than I do, I think," Marshak said, narrowing his eyes. "Do you really expect to live on your own? All you know is the office. It's your life. You can't just walk away from it."

"What's going on?" Sora asked quietly, gathering the sheets around himself and sitting up.

Marshak didn't even look at him as he left the room. "We leave for Chicago at three, Riku. You will be there."

Riku said nothing, his mind frozen on that last: his life, it was his _life_.

He slumped back onto the bed. Sora tentatively touched his shoulders again, then wrapped his arms around them when he received no objections. His breathing was nervous and irregular.

"You're not really going to Chicago, are you?"

The panic in his voice confirmed that it wasn't a rhetorical question. Riku buried his face in his hands, not sure how to answer.

Sora took pity on him and took a more indirect approach. "Where do you work?"

"My dad's company. Advertising. He's one of the biggest names in the North American-Eastern Asian exchange branch, and I've got a Bachelor of Science in business and marketing. He's been hauling me along for the last decade, teaching me the ropes. Chicago...it's our last stop together. It's where I'm supposed to take my place in the firm. From then on, I'll be traveling almost constantly."

"You never mentioned any of this to me."

"I hate it," Riku choked out, clenching his fists. "I fucking hate it."

"You're not really leaving, then," Sora said rapidly. "Why would you move across the continent to do something you hate?"

"Sora, I..."

"Riku, you _can't_! You--"

"It's all I have!"

"You have _me_!" Sora seized his face suddenly, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Riku, I don't presume to be the most important thing in your life. But you're the first person in years who's convinced me that I'm _worth something_--and I thought I had done the same! I mean, we swore to make this last!"

"I never said I wanted to end this!" Riku protested, shaken by the implication.

"Then what's your compromise? Haven't you made up your mind to go?"

Riku dropped his head again, rubbing feverishly at his temples. "Come with me?" he suggested, finally.

"Every relationship is a give-and-take," Sora said, squeezing his eyes shut. He stood up and jerkily began to redress. "I know we both have to make sacrifices, and I would do almost anything for you. But...please, _please_, don't ask that of me! My life is _here_. I can't drop the last fourteen years in a few hours...there's Leon, Cloud, Roxas...my cat, the club--"

"The fucking _club_. You hate it! Why aren't you leaping at the chance to get away from it?"

"Look who's talking!"

"It's not the same!"

"Just because you're an exalted, high-class beneficiary? It's _exactly_ the same! My life is just as defensible as yours, and if you were in my position, you'd know why I can't run away from it!"

"Well, explain it for me!" Riku yelled. "I'm not a mind-reader!"

"I don't have to justify myself; just trust me! Some couples do that, you know?"

They had to stop to catch their breath. Riku had never seen Sora so upset. He leaned against the desk, trying to get himself back under control. "I can't go with you," he said in a low, shaky voice. "I'm sorry, Riku. I would rather keep this life than exchange it for a world of cold, corporate bastards. I'm high-maintenance, remember? I'd rather get the club's superficial love than no love at all."

"There's a stereotype if I've ever heard one," Riku snapped.

Sora glared. "If your father is any indication--"

"You're right. That Xemnas character is _so_ much more heartening!"

"Don't _even_, Riku."

"Why don't _you_ come up with a fucking idea?"

"Here's what I don't understand. Why didn't you mention this to me before? Anytime would've been fabulous, actually! At dinner, maybe, or when we went out on our second date, or when you were making all those glorious speeches about love and eternity--"

"I didn't want it to end!" Riku shouted. "You're the sanest thing that's ever happened to me!"

Silence again.

Sora crossed the room and leaned over the bed, placing his hand over Riku's.

"But you won't stay here," he said quietly.

"Sora...I _hate_ this place."

Sora bit his lip hard, then nodded. The tears swimming in his eyes finally spilled over his cheeks, falling silently onto the sheets and their clasped hands. He leaned in so their lips brushed, then seemed to think better of it and pulled back again.

"If you're leaving, then I'm leaving, too," he whispered. "If you go to Chicago, I'm going to cut you out of my life. I don't want to hear your voice over the phone, thousands of miles away, knowing that I'm trying to hold onto someone I might never see again. I'm tired of being hurt. It's all or nothing, Ri--I want it simple and final, a _clean_ break, like...a high-draw."

Darkness flooded his vision. Riku stood very still, trying to hold onto his consciousness. He opened his mouth, but the sounds wouldn't come.

Ten seconds passed.

Sora straightened up. His voice cracked. "Goodbye, Riku."

He picked his keys off the bedside table and tucked them into his pocket. Walked past the easel, placed a quivering hand on the doorknob. He looked back once, his face filled with a perfectly readable desperation.

_Don't let me go. Stop me, _love_ me_.

Then he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

A second later, he was gone.

* * *

End of part four

I've been writing happy for so long, and it seriously hurts to switch gears. I know this seems rushed and senseless, but their super-sudden, spur-of-the-moment parting is absolutely crucial to the plotline.

Thanks so much for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Merry late Christmas, and a happy late New Year! I wanted to have this posted by the second of January, and according to my time, I was within five minutes of missing that deadline. X.X; But here it is. I hope it was worth the wait.

Thank you so much for the amazing reviews last chapter--especially since it took such a turn!! I apologize for how whiny my "I'm afraid I've lost readers" note sounded in the last update...I was just really worried that I'd killed the fluff too abruptly. Thank you for staying with me. I am so, so, SO grateful. You all are amazing. Can't say that enough.

Warning for this chapter: this may be the worst in the entire story, both content-wise, and the quality of the writing. It was extremely difficult to write. Contains horrible angst, language, mentions of rape, angst, angst, and angst. This is also where Leon and Cloud get more into character. No, really, this is a terrible chapter that I am so happy to get past. All I can say is that I promise a happy ending.

Done rambling now. Love you all.

* * *

Evening, Softly  
By azneyez

* * *

It had been three weeks.

He could not eat. He could not work. He could not sleep. He dreamt relentlessly of Ambrosis and cigarette smoke, dissonance, carnival-like chords and monsters in clown suits. He woke up sobbing for breath every night, Sora's name trembling on his lips.

Immediately after their parting, the importance of life began to pale. Every day was the same--wake up, shower, drink, sleep--and with each passing hour, another part of him seemed to die. The emptiness was infinite. At first he had tried to fill the void with his work, briskly exchanging business proposals and aloof pleasantries, but sharing himself so impersonally with strangers made him feel cold and exhausted. His hands shook constantly with the need for human contact--especially whenever he caught a phantom hint of Sora's scent on the air. He'd dumped clothes in the sink the second he'd gotten inside the hotel room, saturating them with bleach and fragrant laundry detergent, but, like the nightmares, the memories lingered.

His father had postponed their meetings to give him time to regain his bearings, positive that he'd bounce back within the month. "Kids like that are a dime a dozen," he said--his form of consolation. "You'll find one of him in every strip joint in the nation."

And Riku hadn't even tried to explain it again. His father would never understand; _couldn't_ understand.

Love had opened him at the core, then bled him out until he had nothing left. When the memory of Sora's smile began to fade from his mind, he let himself disappear within the recesses of his sorrow. His heart was a grave, and Sora--his love, his soul--was buried very deep.

In the end, Kairi was the one who brought him to his senses. He'd known her since they were children--she was his first and last girlfriend, a perceptive young woman who had gently encouraged him to listen to his heart. "I'm your friend, and I care for you," she'd said when they broke up. "But I know I'm not what you want. Someday you'll find who you're looking for, and when you do, I'll shake his hand and welcome him into my life."

She walked into his room when he was leaning over the bathroom sink with the lights off, staring into the basin with swollen, vacant eyes. Even from her place in the doorway, she could see that he'd bitten his nails to the quick. Blood dotted his fingertips.

"Riku, you look like hell," she said softly.

He didn't respond.

Kairi moved next to him and extricated the washcloth from his loose grip, running it under the cold water tap and dabbing at his sweaty face. He flinched back, startled out of his reverie. Recognition and desperation flooded his eyes, and he leaned forward and clung to her weakly. "Kairi," he said hoarsely. "Why are you...?"

"Shut up," she said, bringing one of his arms over her shoulder and walking him out of the bathroom. "We need to get you in bed."

"Can't sleep," he whispered.

"Why not? Nightmares?"

"Keep seeing his face. It hits me over and over. _Fuck_."

She sat him down on the bed anyway, then knelt beside him, clasping his hands tightly between hers. He was warm and shaky, as if from fever. "Riku," she tried again, more carefully. "I noticed you've been missing work. And Riku 'The Machine' Marshak _never_ misses work. What's going on? Did something happen while you were in Las Vegas?"

He was silent for a long moment, staring at their joined hands. "_Everything_ happened in Las Vegas," he said finally. A single rogue tear slipped down one cheek, and he fiercely brushed it away. "Everything bad happened there. Everything _good_. Every fucking thing in between. I lived a thousand lives down there, Kairi, and I've got _nothing_ here. There's nothing here for me."

Kairi swallowed, not sure what to say. She was accustomed to his poeticism, and his repetition startled her--he was delivering his words without a trace of emotion. She touched his shoulder. He looked at her again, bravely, struggling to pull himself back together. Then his eyes fluttered shut and he seemed to close in on himself, sliding sideways onto the bed and putting his hands over his face.

"Riku?"

"Just leave me alone, okay? I feel so fucking _broken_!" he shouted, viciously swiping her hands away. She drew back instinctively, bumping her hip hard on his nightstand. A single silken cloth slid off its polished surface, revealing a stack of painted canvases.

She glanced back at him furtively, but his head was still in his arms. Slowly, she picked up the first painting, which depicted a blue-eyed young man of insurmountable beauty. He was holding an ice cream cone. Behind him were two wing-like expanses of light, painted lightly, as if Riku wasn't quite sure they should be there. Kairi moved to the next canvas. Same person, same incredible smile. Next painting. A soft-lined silhouette, contrasted elegantly against the radiance of a Las Vegas midnight.

Something in his brushstrokes spoke to her. With a sudden, grief-filled comprehension, she understood.

She waited until his breath stopped hitching before stroking the hair away from his damp cheeks. It was the first time in their seven years of friendship that she'd seen him in such pain, and she closed her own eyes, not surprised to feel tears burning beneath her lids. "I see now, Riku. I know."

His voice went cold. "Do you?"

"Yes," she said, without hesitation. She waited a beat. "What was his name?"

He didn't look up, but his shoulders stilled immediately. A few seconds after Kairi had decided that he wasn't going to answer, he whispered his response. "His...his name...it was Sora. Sora H. DeMaverick."

"Was he a good person?"

"Jesus, you have no idea. He was everything...he was so _real. _Beautiful, intelligent, deep, frightened...somehow perfect in his imperfection. As soon as I saw him, I just knew he was the one. I felt it with every fiber of my body. It was like someone made him to fill in all of my missing pieces."

Kairi sat motionlessly. She didn't want to, but she had to ask; _needed_ to ask. "What happened to him, Riku? Car accident? Was he...lost?"

Riku sat up, slowly and stiffly. "No. Nothing like that. He--didn't want to come to Chicago."

"Why the hell not? Was he sick?"

"No."

"Why didn't you stay with him, then?"

"I--Kairi, I _couldn't_!"

It took her a long moment to realize what he was implying, and for a minute after, she could do nothing but stare at him in disbelief that swiftly turned into bold fury. He sensed her anger and met her gaze for the first time since her visit, his eyes damp and defiant.

"Don't you dare say it, Kairi, don't you _dare_ fucking say it. It wasn't that simple."

"It's never _simple_!" she said, her voice rising. "It's not tic-tac-toe! It's _love_!"

"I didn't want it to end!"

"For Christ's sake, then _why did it_, Riku?"

"What did you expect me to do? Give up my whole life for someone I've known for a month?"

Something inside her snapped. Suddenly, she was on her feet, screaming outright at him for the first time in her life. "Riku, you self-centered bastard! Did you mean anything you said about him being your true love, or were you just bullshitting me again? Making for good poetry, is that it? I am so tired of hearing you spout sonnets to me, to _him_; it's a stupid front you use because you're too afraid to let people in! Stop sugarcoating everything! Do you love him or _not_?"

She expected rage, but the question seemed to shatter him. He sat back again, stunned.

"How could you even ask that?" he demanded, his voice cracking, and though he had not directly responded to her question, Kairi had heard his answer.

"Then here's what you need to know," she continued loudly, dropping her pitch only a few levels. "You wouldn't be giving up your life for him. He _is_ your life. As soon as you meet someone you love, you're brothers in arms. If it's like you say--and I'm sure it is--then you're his life, too! Why the hell would you give something like that up?"

Riku opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again, slowly. He moved once more to cradle his head in his hands.

"You'd never understand how it was. I can't explain it."

"_Try_."

He floundered with words for a moment, then gave up. Tears flashed angrily in his eyes. "Bottom drawer of that dresser in the corner. Underneath my socks."

She crossed the room and opened the drawer he'd indicated, carefully shifting through piles of his unkempt clothing. Her fingers closed on a piece of paper ripped from a notepad. The insignia read, "Scholz Savoy Hotels" in dark, flowing calligraphy. "Do you want me to read this?" she asked Riku, lifting the piece of paper.

"I found it in the toe of my shoe after he'd left," he said in a dead voice.

Kairi opened the note and silently began to scan Sora's clear print. At the first sentence, her breath caught in her throat. She sat down slowly, reading intently and meticulously, vaguely aware that Riku had again dropped his head in exhaustion. By the last few lines, she could barely make out the words through her blurred vision. Making no effort to wipe away her tears, she refolded the note and placed it reverently back in its drawer.

Then she stood and flung open Riku's closet doors, dragging his suitcases into the center of the room.

"You are going back to him this second," she informed him simply. She couldn't stop crying.

"I don't deserve him. I could never go back now--I fucked up."

_Life isn't that linear_, she thought bitterly. Her head ached. _We do not follow a single path; we are allowed to backtrack. We are supposed to err. It makes us _human.

She was too angry to vocalize the thought. "Riku, people would _kill_ to be as in love as you are," she said instead. "Stop running scared; it's an insult to human existence!"

"I would sell my soul for the chance to take back those last few moments," he told her, pressing the heels of his hands hard against his eyes to stop them from stinging. "Every time I close my eyes, I see his face as he walked out the door. Our love was so young and selfish...he opened his heart to me and I abandoned him for my work! I trivialized his entire being by even suggesting he drop his life at a moment's notice!"

"And you _honestly_ don't think he'll forgive you?"

"He'll forgive me, because he's Sora."

"Then what is your problem?" she yelled.

"The problem is, I can't forgive _myself_!" Riku shouted back.

Kairi ripped his hangers out of the closet. "Oh god, Romeo, over-simplifying, over-analyzing. Don't you ever get it right?"

He reeled for a second, taken aback by the sudden change of pace. "What?"

"'I love you forever,'" she quoted, pointing to the note. "That admission is all you need."

Riku's mouth trembled. He started to stand, then hesitated, his eyes lingering on the paintings by his nightstand. Kairi stopped folding his clothes. Walking over to his bedside, she placed both her hands on his cheeks and gave him a gentle, platonic kiss, one that tasted like salt and farewell. Through her tears, she smiled at him.

"_Go_," she urged, gripping his arms tight.

And after drawing in a deep, shaky breath, Riku moved to help her pack.

* * *

Kairi's tears had blurred a few letters, but he had already memorized Sora's note.

_Riku, here are the ten things I love most about you:  
10. The way the light catches your hair when move  
9. Your ability to burn everything...pancakes, eggs, water...  
8. The way you hold me tenderly, like you're afraid you'll break me  
7. ...and the way you let me go, when you know I can stand by myself  
6. The way you clear your throat before you laugh  
5. How readily you admit when you're wrong (those rare times!)  
4. The ease with which you live in the moment  
3. How deep your still waters run  
2. The way you mend me when I feel too tired to be in love  
And 1: Your integrity--the beautiful, unselfish kind that holds you up, and still finds enough strength to hold me up next to you. I'm no poet, Riku, but--little as it is--I offer you everything I have. You gave me wings and showed me heaven years after I had given up on seeing the light. You've made me a better person. There is no way I can repay you, unless love is an acceptable currency--that, I have in profusion. I love you, with 200 percent of my clumsy heart. I love you forever._

_Yours in eternity,  
Sora H. DeMaverick_

* * *

He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of the taxi. The Scholz Savoy had never been the Bellagio or the Treasure Island, but it was quietly beautiful, well-kept and subdued in a way that no Las Vegas hotel had a right to be. Now, the building was sinking into disrepair. The fluorescent sign was flickering. The stairs were dusty from neglect. Even the white brick facing, which Leon had scrubbed down every night with pride and care, was graying and gathering cobwebs. It was as if they had lived the last three weeks in a haze.

Riku stood on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, his duffel on his shoulder, hands shaking. His throat ached as he swallowed back tears, dimly aware that his entire being was resting on one crumbling precipice. He wanted to sweep Sora into his arms, kiss him, fly him away to someplace beautiful.

But he felt like he was falling.

Quietly, he walked around back. Sora's window was dark. The room looked heavy and ominous, and though it was shrouded in a sense of abandonment, Riku knew it was occupied. The cat hopped nimbly onto the windowsill as he stared through the casement, eyes flashing, and for a fraction of a second Riku wanted to turn around and never look back. The place was a hell. Something horrible had happened, he _felt_ it, and the air was choking him. But Sora was in there somewhere. Sora was _alone_.

The front doors were lit, coldly. He paused with his hand on the knob, struggling to keep his heart from leaping through his throat.

"Go," he whispered to himself, harshly. "_Go_."

He twisted the handle and pushed.

For a moment, his vision was flooded with the stark, pale light, blinding after the evening's darkness. The lobby was too bright. It was only when his eyes finally adjusted that he realized he was crying. He blinked back tears, and Leon and Cloud slowly came into sight.

They were standing behind the desk, rigid and disbelieving. Both were at an obvious loss for words. Their hands were clasped between them, so tightly that their knuckles were white, and they appeared to have been deep in conversation.

The three of them stood in silence for a long moment. Outside, the traffic moved in a steady, noisy flow, unmindful of the impending confrontation. Leon was the first to react.

"Riku?" he asked, breaking his grip with Cloud. He took a halting step forward. His hair had fallen across his eyes, and when he brushed it aside, Riku caught a flash of what looked like a six-inch cut running across his forehead. The edges were just beginning to scar. Riku opened his mouth to ask about it, shocked by the disfiguring injury, but Cloud spoke up first, soundlessly moving to the other side of the desk.

"A little late, aren't you?" he said dully. "Three fucking weeks without one word, Riku. I'd hoped you were dead. It was the only reason I could've forgiven you for not coming back."

"I'm here now," said Riku. His lips were numb.

"Doesn't matter," said Cloud. "Things will never be the same. You missed your chance for a happy ending; I hope you fucking know that."

There was nothing of the old Cloud in the person that stood before Riku. All the ever-present traces of good humor had vanished from his posture. His eyes were cold and dark, and for the first time, he looked as if he'd finally been swallowed by that characteristic Las Vegas worldliness. There didn't seem to be a single smile left in him. He could've been a stranger.

Leon hadn't moved. "Cloud--"

"You missed your chance," he continued in that same toneless voice, "and I want this to live with you for the rest of your life. When we first met, I told you to treat him well, and you turned and broke his heart when he was finally on the verge of something beautiful."

"Please!" Riku said, his voice cracking. "If you'd just let me see him--"

"I told you, you're too fucking late!" Cloud shouted. "Sora's _dead_!"

Riku's world went black. The taste of iron seeped into his mouth.

Now Leon pulled away from the counter and grabbed Riku's shoulders, shaking him hard to keep him on his feet. "Riku, _no_. It's okay. That's not true."

Cloud whirled on him. "Fuck you, Leon! He's dead enough! When's the last time he _spoke_ to you!? Have you had a single coherent conversation with him in the last three weeks!? The last thing he said to me was in the hospital, and it was, '_Cloud, I can't do this anymore_.' That boy is done living. A person can only take so much pain, and he has had more heartbreak in six years than most people have in a whole fucking _lifetime_!"

"So you want him to _die_?!" Leon shouted back. "You're willing to give up on him, just like that?!"

"The sooner, the better! And you want to know why? Because he's too good for this _shit_!"

He seized his coat from behind the desk and made a steady break for the door, rattling the windows with the force of his exit. He paused only to regard Riku with an expression of pure hatred.

"Fuck you," he said clearly. "Fuck you, you selfish son of a bitch. If you could only experience _half_ of the pain Sora feels right now, I'd be satisfied. But now we know you're beyond any emotion."

Walking purposely out of range of the streetlamps, he was gone in seconds, leaving Leon and Riku standing at doorway in the gathering darkness. Leon stared after him for a moment, then slowly closed the door. He crossed back to the desk, fished a cigarette from one of its drawers, and lit it. The match hissed.

"Welcome back," he said, after a long drag.

Riku only gazed at him. He could barely feel his legs; the scene with Cloud had shaken him badly.

Leon recognized his state of stupor and quickly changed his tone. "Sora's not well," he said quietly. "I don't know if you should see him. It would be best for both of you if you just left now."

"But he's not dead," Riku said rapidly. "He's alive, right? He's okay?"

"He's alive, Riku, but he's not okay."

"If he's alive, then there's a chance! Please, I owe him an apology--at the very least, I could provide a sense of closure and--"

Abruptly, Leon dropped his cigarette into an ashtray and turned away. "It's more than that," he said in a low, strained voice. "Everything fell apart when you left."

He touched his forehead, moving his fingers unconsciously along the scar.

Riku followed his fingers with his eyes. A precognitive sense of icy dread filled his stomach, and when he opened his mouth to inquire after the injury, no sound came out.

Leon closed his eyes and leaned back against the counter, still not meeting his gaze. He spoke rapidly, with great effort. "Listen--Cloud was wrong. None of this is your fault. It started a long time ago, before Sora even met you. It started when he was fourteen."

"Fourteen," Riku managed. "That was when--"

"Yeah, he met his first boyfriend. The beginning of the end, right?" he said, and laughed suddenly. A small, uncharacteristic note of hysteria had crept into his voice. He swept a hand hastily across his eyes and tried to smile, his lips trembling faintly. "You didn't know this, but we've been waging war against Ambrosis for almost seven years. I wish you could've known Sora before he got caught up in that crowd--he was so passionate, so _optimistic_. He was going to do incredible things. But he knew he was doomed. He felt it. And there was nothing he could do about it."

Riku waited in silence and tried to keep breathing.

"The night you went to visit Sora at the club, Roxas told you what happened with Xemnas," Leon continued. "Cloud and I had been worried about him for some time--we'd met him on his first day, and, like with Sora, we saw something in him change. We suspected that someone in his workforce was responsible. Roxas was never able to tell me or Sora or anyone else he knew, because we were too close, but he trusted you as a neutral in the dispute. His confession was more than just a confirmation of our suspicions...it was a testimony that could finally get the place shut down. After you and Sora left, we confronted Roxas. Then the three of us went to the police.

"We thought it was over. The cops said they needed twenty-four hours to compile our evidence, and then they'd take the place down. Sora was in shock after your departure...he was just going through the motions...and Roxas had agreed to keep it quiet until the raid. Both of them went to work at ten. But Xemnas was a step ahead. _God_. We...we underestimated him. Seven fucking years of watching his every move, and we _still_--"

Leon clasped a hand briefly over his mouth and swallowed twice. He could not meet Riku's eyes.

"Roxas called us at eleven that night. He was crying. Hysterical. He told us Xemnas had burst in and hauled Sora into the changing room, and he could hear both of them screaming. Then someone cut him off. That dead line buzzing--I'll never forget it. Cloud and I jumped in the car and drove halfway to the club, but the traffic was hell, so I got out and ran while he phoned the police. I sprinted the whole way and got there in ten minutes.

"I went up through the back. They'd handcuffed Roxas to the fire escape. He was unconscious, but breathing, so I ran inside to find Sora." He brought his palms down hard on the countertop, shaking the drawers. For the first time, Riku noticed that the knuckles were heavily bandaged. Leon's words jerked out between gritted teeth in compulsive phrases. "I was late. I was too fucking _late_. And I didn't think it through. Xemnas knew we were shutting him down, and his business was the _one_ thing that kept him from taking what he wanted from Sora--we were trying to protect him, but all we did was tear down his sanctuary. I might as well have forced him myself."

"They raped him?" Riku whispered.

Leon finally looked up at him. His eyes were frigid. "They had a knife to his throat when I walked in. I didn't know what I was doing, I was so--so--fuck; I was so furious, so sick, so _overcome_. I tried to fight them off by myself. There were four of them. That's when Xemnas got me in the face, and I heard sirens in the distance, and everything went black."

Riku felt his stomach leap. He closed both hands over his mouth, kneeling by the counter, waiting to throw up, _wanting_ to throw up. He wanted to purge himself of everything that had happened in the past few months. He wanted to run into the night and find a quiet place where no one knew him, wanted to slap Leon's hands off his shoulders and scream.

He could only dry heave. He had eaten nothing for three days.

"Cloud told me the rest," said Leon. In the wake of Riku's grief, he had again tried to steady his voice. "They didn't catch Xemnas--he and the others were gone by the time the police got in. Sora showed signs of repeated sexual abuse. Internal bleeding. Fractures in the ribs and wrists. Concussion. Severe bruising. He stayed in the hospital for two weeks and only spoke to Cloud once, then he went catatonic."

His voice rose abruptly in desperation.

"We tried to get him help, Riku! We want to bring him back to us! But he won't speak to psychiatrists, and he refuses to commit himself to a ward. He can't--Riku, are you listening?"

Somehow, Riku managed to lift his chin in an affirmative. Tears poured down his cheeks, hot and silent.

"Riku, he can't talk about what happened. He's ready to die. You're the only one who can help him right now; he's so far gone that I don't think he can even hear any of us anymore. Please, _please_ don't walk out on us. His life depends on it."

The world swam around him. Riku punched the counter as hard as he could, barely feeling the pain that tore through his fingers, scattering the hotel's paperwork across the floor. His hands fumbled across the guest book, soaking its pages with blood. "What the fuck do you want me to do?" he screamed. "I can't do shit for him! I can't even love him right! I came into his life, I fucked him up, I left him and let him get _raped_, and now you're telling me that I'm supposed to make everything okay! Don't you fucking _understand_? I'm the reason everything is _wrong_!"

Leon stood up and seized his shoulders in an iron grip. He shook him violently, twice.

"Listen! Do you think _Roxas_ came out of it unscathed!? They took him too, then beat him and left him for dead. He's not okay. But he's not drinking himself to death, either. Axel was by his side every minute of the day, and together, the two of them are getting past this tragedy!"

Riku pulled away from his grip and slid to the floor, sobs wrenching his entire body.

"You've got to believe that you can help!" Leon went on. His voice was again losing volume; it cracked at the ends of his sentences. "You're his last chance! If you can't do it for yourself, do it for him. _He still loves you_."

Those were the last words exchanged for nearly an hour. Riku sobbed steadily, sitting with the counter at his back and Leon at his side. His chest ached excruciatingly with a sharp, sick pain that he felt even in the tips of his fingers. It felt like his heart was flooding. He thought about Sora and his vows of purity. He thought about his past demons. He thought about the way Sora kissed him and the sadness that sometimes crept into his eyes. There was so much Riku would do to make love to Sora--hug him, protect him, buy him stuffed animals in bulk--but not if he believed Sora was not ready. Not if Sora didn't _want_ it.

The idea of anyone hurting him that way shattered him.

_Such a waste. Such a fucking _waste.

He didn't realize he had spoken aloud until Leon squeezed his arm.

"I want to kill Xemnas, and whatever deities allowed something like this to happen," he said softly. "Don't get me wrong. But hate won't help Sora now, Riku. Hate doesn't heal."

Riku didn't open his eyes. "I've got to see him."

"No--it'll kill you. I think I can have him lucid by tomorrow night, but his condition now--"

"I still have a key," he said. "I have a key, and if I don't see him tonight, I'll die anyway."

He tried to stand. Leon had to help hoist him up; his entire body was cold and utterly without feeling. He couldn't find the strength to lift his satchel, so he left it at Leon's feet, making his way towards the staircase. One foot in front of the other. Each step was a battle.

"Riku," Leon said suddenly, just before he turned the corner. "No matter what happens or what it looks like, remember that the two of you are stronger than this."

"Love conquers all," Riku answered, uttering a small laugh as more tears slipped from his eyes.

Leon caught his eye. "_Yes_," he said firmly.

* * *

It took Riku four tries to get the key into the lock. His hands were shaking, and his subconscious was stalling him. It was going to be bad--the anxiety in Leon's voice had confirmed that. Before he turned the knob, he drew in a sharp breath and strove to brace himself for something horrific enough to crush a soul.

It was worse than he'd expected even in his nightmares.

The blinds were drawn. All the lights were off. The room smelled like alcohol and sweat, and every surface was littered with beer bottles and empty paper cups. He stumbled several times on his way to the bedside lamp, his feet tangling in blankets and unwashed laundry. The whole room was in a state of disarray that Sora never would've allowed, had he been in his right mind. It took all of Riku's strength to flick the light switch.

Sora was passed out in his bed, the sheets twisted around his legs. His breathing was labored and erratic. He had curled in on himself in sleep, one hand half closed around a wad of tissue, the other gripping the body of a flask. Riku pulled it out of his grasp and smelled it. The unmistakable scent of vodka shocked him into action, and he set it aside, gripping Sora's head and tilting it up to check his color. His skin was clammy and flushed, not pale, and he let out a breath that he didn't even know he'd been holding in.

Alcohol poisoning ruled out, he traced his fingers shakily across Sora's features. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his lips, once so soft and inviting, were swollen and badly chapped. Bruises stood out under his chin and across both sides of his neck. His shirt had slipped off one shoulder, revealing heavy bandaging and fading teeth marks, and when he coughed in his sleep and reached to bat Riku's hands away, his wrists showed the same dark bruising. Riku clasped his hand over his mouth, aghast. Disgust and bottomless grief mixed violently inside him, and he gathered Sora in his arms and began feverishly stroking his sweat-matted hair.

"How could this _happen_ to you?" he sobbed, rocking him back and forth. Sora did not wake. The liquor in his bloodstream was too strong, numbing him into a stupor. He didn't even stir when Riku's hot tears fell on his face, running down the abused planes of his cheek. "God, Sora, _I love you_. I am never going to let you go again. You're going to make it. _You will not die like this; I won't let you_!"

He sat like that for a long time, cradling Sora's small body and whispering, praying that somehow Sora could hear him.

When hours had passed, and he finally gave up on Sora waking up, he remade the bed. The sheets were soggy, so he changed them, first smoothing them out against the mattress and then turning them back so they would cool. The night air was sweltering. He moved to crack a window, and as he parted the curtains, a silvery line of moonlight cut gently across the carpet.

_Evening_, he thought, remembering Sora's words. _Evening, softly._

He lingered there for a moment. The Strip was bright, but the stars were brighter, and there were thousands of them hanging in the dark sky that night. Riku picked Sora up and readjusted him on the bed, pulling the covers over him and flipping his pillow to the cool side. His well of tears had finally run dry. He wiped the remaining moisture from his cheeks and bent to kiss Sora's bruised mouth, trying not to imagine the violence it must've been forced to endure.

"I love you," he whispered again. He couldn't say it enough. "I love you so much."

It was only one o' clock.

Dawn was very far away.

* * *

End of part five

X.X What do you think? Be brutal. I need it. Thanks so much for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Sorry this was later than I had planned; it was a bitch to write. The last scene in this chapter was what inspired the entire fic, so I spent a lot of time trying to do it justice, even though it came out sort of half-assed. XD But thanks for being patient. I really appreciate it. I'm not a lazy writer, honest, just a busy one with a time-consuming job. And...that job starts in a few minutes, so I've got to get my ass in gear.

Warnings for this chap: mentions of rape, language (of course), Soriku, CloudxLeon, AkuRoku and angst. To everyone who's ever reviewed, thank you so, SO much. You guys keep me going.

* * *

Evening, Softly

By azneyez

* * *

That night, Riku Marshak dreamed of heaven. The sun had risen orange on the horizon, surrounding him by oceans of rippling gold. The world was redolent with the smell of lavender incense and cinnamon, a combination so strong and clean it brought tears to his eyes, evoking visions, nebulae of inspiration. He painted doors into the air with his fingertips and let the breezes kiss every inch of his twenty-two-year-old body.

Somewhere in the distance, he felt a gust like a window being thrown open. He turned, but the light was too bright--he could only make out an exquisite shadow and two sapphire eyes, gleaming like two underwater prisms. He reached out blindly to embrace his rapture. Fell short and landed hard on his elbows. The whole scene crumbled apart under his weight and gave way to empty space, and suddenly, there was something shrieking, _shrieking_--

The phone was ringing.

Riku jerked awake with a gasp, freeing the beads of cold sweat that had gathered on his forehead. He shoved the phone off the nightstand without thinking, desperate for the noise to stop. When he leaned to pick it up in the dark, the joints in his knees popped loudly. He winced and tried to concentrate on the voice in his ear.

"--morning. It's Leon."

The memory of the previous night flooded back in a crippling dark wave. Riku whirled to check the bed, his heart pounding. Sora was still asleep, his face troubled and flushed deep pink, but sometime during the night he must've gotten up to close though blinds again. Either he hadn't seen Riku or was too hung over to notice. Riku ran his fingers gently across Sora's cheeks, dampened with sweat and tears.

The earpiece buzzed. "Riku? Are you there?"

Riku dropped his hand. "Why do you assume it's me?" he demanded, his mouth as dry as cotton. "Doesn't Sora ever pick up his phone?"

"Someone is here to see you," Leon said, gently evading the question. "He's waiting in the stairwell."

"Who?"

"It's Axel."

He took a moment to register the name, then it hit him: Roxas' boyfriend. A man he had only heard about fleetingly, in glowing terms--a man who was somehow picking up and reassembling the sharp pieces of his lover's heart. Had _he_ stopped to cry? Riku wondered. Did he let himself sink beneath despairing waters, or did he thrash to keep his head above the surface?

He felt a sick tightening of his throat, but he was too tired to weep. _Life doesn't pull any punches_, he thought numbly, remembering the heartbreaking way Roxas had pulled a flimsy jacket over his costume in vain attempt to remedy his overexposure. _Life just keeps hitting the same people, even if you've been raped by your boss, even if your life is an endless cycle of emotional abuse. I could heal Sora just to lose him to cancer or gang violence or liver disease_.

"So what's the fucking _point_," he whispered.

Leon was quiet on the line for a few seconds. "Get Sora to smile again," he said finally. "Then tell me it wasn't worth it."

They hung up.

Riku leaned over to check Sora's breathing again, then picked up his jacket from where he'd left it near the door. He considered leaving a note, then dismissed the idea. A quickly written letter wouldn't change anything if Sora had decided not to take him back, and he was sick of poetry.

The man perched on the stairs wore black gloves and a dark trench coat, despite the warm weather. His red hair blazed under the fluorescent lights. There were two diamond-shaped tattoos beneath his starkly green eyes, gothic and artistic; a shocking combination that forced Riku take an instinctive step backward. Then Axel looked up at him grinned, and the feeling passed. It was the first true smile Riku had seen since his return, honest and uncomplicated.

"You look like shit," Axel said, shaking his head.

Suddenly aware of his unkempt hair, Riku reached to tuck his bangs behind his ears. Axel batted his hand back down, amused by his discomfort.

"You've been through hell, kid. Damned if you don't deserve to look lousy. Now, c'mon."

Riku blinked. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you out for coffee," said Axel, and winked.

* * *

They ended up at the Spin City Coffee Company on Main Street, a low-key niche filled with winged armchairs and crowded antique bookshelves. Axel flipped briefly through a Shakespeare compilation, pausing in The Comedy of Errors. "Listen to this," he said, the Old English rolling off his tongue like music: "'A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, we bid be quiet when we hear it cry; but were we burdened with like weight of pain, as much or more we should ourselves complain.'"

"Shakespeare didn't know Sora or Roxas," said Riku, staring into his cup of coffee. "They're angels. They don't ever complain, do they?"

Axel chuckled and shoved the book back onto its ledge. "Oh, Roxas complains. He hates it when I drink the milk straight from the carton. And he griped for days after he took a midnight dip in the toilet when I forgot to put the ring down."

Incredibly, Riku felt himself smile. "A valid complaint."

"I just told him he should get in the habit of looking before he sits," said Axel.

They shared a wordless glance, communicating more in their silence than they ever could in words. Their regrets were not quite interchangeable, but they wore similar wounds--the grief hung between them thickly, like a promise of rain. Axel sighed and looked out the window, running his gloved finger around the smooth rim of the coffee cup.

"Roxas talked to Sora yesterday," he said. "He called in the evening, and Sora actually picked up for the first time since he left the hospital. He said he sounded completely unlike himself--he was putting on airs or something. Drunk or in denial, or both. He was fixing something in the microwave and talking about Todders, his cat, and then he started talking about you."

Riku looked up. "Me?"

"Yeah. He said something about you wanting to go to Hawaii."

"I'm taking him there for our honeymoon," Riku said. He closed his eyes. "That was where we went for our first date, a Hawaiian place called Mauna Kea. It means 'white mountain.' He always said he wanted to go there for the oceans, but he just wants to be disconnected. He wants to be somewhere where nobody knows his name."

Axel hesitated. "Riku...when Roxas asked him if he felt any better, he couldn't remember what had happened."

"Why? Because of his drinking?"

"Leon thinks it's dissociative amnesia," he said. "It's a psychological defense mechanism that prevents someone from coping, from having to face the emotional repercussions of a traumatic event. It can be treated with medication and therapy, and if it gets bad enough, we might be able to get Sora committed to a psychiatric ward without his consent."

Riku dropped his cup back onto the saucer, rattling the porcelain. "You're trying to get him _committed_?" he shouted. The other customers wheeled around in their chairs, startled. "Axel, what the fuck!"

"It's a last resort," Axel said firmly, unaffected by the outburst. "I don't want him in a straitjacket and a padded room any more than you do. But he needs _help_, Riku, and if he can't get it from you, we're going to have to seek professional help. Do you agree?"

"He's not going to talk to a shrink, damn it! They'll fuck him up. They'll teach him to stop _feeling_."

"Riku, I'm not just asking you as a courtesy. Do you agree or not? You know what's best for him."

Riku laughed, bitter and incredulous. "I haven't even known him three months."

"Yeah, and somehow you've learned more about him in a week than Leon and Cloud have in a decade." He sipped his coffee, poured another cup. When he caught Riku's unconvinced expression, he grinned faintly. "Stop holding your breath, Shakespeare. Flowery speeches aren't my forte. What do you think about Sora? Yay or nay?"

"Yes," Riku said huskily, after a pause. "Yes, it's--it's the only thing that can be done."

"Sure, but don't sound so _doomed_. You're not sentencing him to death."

"I might as well be. Sora is spontaneity, kindness, fragility...sending him to a psych ward would be like giving someone permission to tear him apart. He'll never be the same."

"That's why you need to step in."

Axel hesitated, then reached out to hold Riku's hand.

"I called you here today so you had a while to get it together. It's going to be hard as hell, but from here on out, you've got to be strong. I know you're hurting, but he needs you to be his crutch. You two _can_ get through this. Just don't show him your tears. If you need anything, call me." With his free hand he reached to scribble his number on a napkin, then slid it across the table and smiled that effortless smile. They might've been talking about the weather. Only the subtle tightening of his fingers betrayed his cool exterior.

"Axel," said Riku softly. "I'm at a loss. I have no idea what to do."

"Get him to take you back," said Axel. "From there, your heart will do the rest."

He couldn't help a small smile at that. Tears prickled in his eyes. "I thought that you weren't one for flowery speeches."

"That was a flowery _adage_. There's a difference."

Outside, a door opened in a shop across the street. Roxas stepped out. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was dressed too heavily for Las Vegas--a white jacket, jeans, a long red scarf--but when Axel waved at him from behind the window, he smiled faintly and lifted a hand in greeting. Axel beamed at him for a moment, then turned back to Riku and began to gather his belongings.

"Sorry to cut this short; I promised Roxas I'd take him to a movie."

"He looks great," said Riku.

"It's not his A-game by any means, but hell, under the circumstances," Axel said, laughing. He picked up the bill and stooped down to give Riku a handshake and a hug, lingering there for a moment longer than was necessary. "You'll do fine, Riku. Just stick with it. If God doesn't give people like you and Sora your happy endings together, then there's no hope at all for the rest of us sinners."

Riku watched through the glass as Axel left the shop, narrowly missing a car in his hurry to get across the street. He kissed Roxas twice, once on the forehead, once at the corner of his mouth, then picked him up off the sidewalk and swung him in an enthusiastic circle. Roxas laughed, hitting him on the arms to get him to let go. Once his feet were back on the ground, he hesitated, then leaned in to delicately meet Axel's lips with his own. From his nervous rigidity and Axel's startled posture, Riku knew he was looking at their first true kiss since the events at Ambrosis.

_One step at a time_, he thought, shutting his eyes, trying to remember the way Sora's mouth felt against his own. _I'm going to get you back; don't give up on me. Don't give up on yourself_.

* * *

He paused twice on the stairs on his way up to Sora's room, trying to breathe. He felt as if there were a huge weight on his chest. His pulse was beating rapidly in his ears, a steady, fluttering rhythm he could feel even in the tips of his fingers.

Even before he knocked, he knew that Sora was awake. He felt a presence in the room, dark and desperate, like the long moments before waking up from a nightmare. It took all of his strength to lift his hand and rap softly on the door.

Sora took a long time to answer. Riku could hear ice cubes rattling in a tray, Sora's soft, murmured curses as he emptied them into the sink and stumbled from the bathroom to peek through the eyehole. Silence fell suddenly, like a blow to the face. Then Sora wrenched back the bolts and opened the door, leaning heavily against the jamb with drunken grogginess. "Hey, you're back," he whispered, his eyes flickering open and closed. He was too inebriated to enunciate; Riku could barely understand him. "Come to kiss it all better, Prince? Get me a microwave, a...a stable full of Schnapps..."

Riku lunged instinctively to catch him as he began to fall forward. Sora sagged briefly in his arms, then raised a hand to brush his fingertips softly across Riku's face. Riku clasped Sora's cold fingers in his own, kissing the knuckles with trembling lips.

"I don't ever want to wake up," Sora murmured into his shoulder.

"Sora," Riku whispered. "Where the hell are you?"

Suddenly, Sora tensed. He thrashed out of Riku's embrace, fighting weakly, catching his balance back against the wall. "This isn't a dream," he breathed, his eyes wide and filled with shocked tears. "I...I thought I was dreaming! Riku--after three _weeks_? H-how _could_ you?"

"I'm going to help you," said Riku, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Sora started at him. "You're fucking _kidding_," he hissed, articulating clearly.

"No. No, I--"

"Fuck. _Fuck_!" Sora stumbled back into the room and grabbed a glass of bourbon from the side of the sink. When he moved the cup to his mouth, the dark amber of the alcohol was shocking against his lips, chapped and pale. "I'm toasting to you!" he declared, after a long sip. "I'm toasting to the bastard who decided to grow a heart a whole fucking month after the fact. Cheers! Better late than never!"

He had never heard Sora use such language. The words died in his throat, and Sora plowed on.

"Surprise, surprise, I finally got out of your fucking fairytale world. Thanks for setting me up for that fall, by the way. I was always afraid to believe in that happily-ever-after shit until you came along, lifted my spirits, destroyed all my reservations, then dropped me like a fucking rock to pursue your dreams of corporations and cubicles. Thank you so much for leaving me alone with this devastation, Romeo. You showed me what it is to be truly miserable."

"I'm back now," Riku whispered. "And I'm trying to make it right."

"I've got a new boyfriend now. His name is Jack Daniel's."

Riku squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the heels of his hands hard into the sockets to force back the tears. Sora hadn't dressed; he had simply pulled a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around his neck. It slid down a few inches as he lifted his drink again. He had removed all the bandaging on his shoulder, and the skin there was a palette of bruises in varying levels of weak restoration--faded greens and yellows, brown, vivid purple. The hollows of his eyes were nearly black.

"Tell me," said Sora. "How the hell are you going to help me?" He re-examined him, critically, spitefully. "Wait, where's your fucking briefcase? Doesn't it make you feel empty inside, not having any paperwork to cling to?"

"I'm _here_, Sora! I need _you_, that's it."

"Oh, that's right, you never got a piece."

Riku blinked at him, astounded. "_What_?"

Sora leaned into the doorframe, closing his eyes and tilting back his head. Taking Riku's hand, he traced the sensually fingers down the curve of his throat, pulling him close and provocatively inching one knee between his legs. "Why don't you take me now, Riku? Just for closure, you know. I mean, I don't care much for self-preservation anymore...how can I, when all of Vegas has had a taste?"

Riku jerked his hand away as if burned, then he grabbed Sora's arms roughly, his fingers biting into his pale skin. "Damn it, stop _fronting_!" he shouted. "Sora, what the _fuck_, this isn't you! You're like a fucking battleground! I need _you_, not your fucking pretenses!"

"The feeling is mutual," said Sora.

"What do you mean?"

Sora shoved him away, hard. He advanced on him, backing him against the wall across the hall. "_You_," he whispered, and all the stagy notes in his voice were gone. Without his poses he was stripped bare, raw, bleeding. "I can't _stand_ you anymore. Your words are so _empty_, and I am never going to believe another one of your beautiful lies again. _Never_. I love you more than anything else in the world, but I can't afford to invest myself in you. It--it hurts too much."

"Please," Riku begged. "I'll do anything for you."

Sora had moved back to the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder, then turned around reluctantly, the bed sheet pooling at his feet. "Then feed me a line that isn't poetry. Give me something real to work with, something that's _life_, without your fucking fairytale glitter."

Riku drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes again. "I--I wish I'd fucked you when you offered."

Sora regarded him for a few long seconds, his expression sickly disappointed, hurt. "Thanks, but no thanks."

He moved to close the door. Riku sprang forward, catching it just before it shut. "I wish I'd fucked you because I _deserved_ to," he whispered rapidly, speaking to the inch of Sora's face that he could see through the door. "I love you more than I love myself--I love you with all of who I am--and your first time was a part of you that belonged to _me_, because I would've cradled the memory in my heart for the rest of my life. Sora, I love you. I want to spend my life with you, no matter what you're going through. I can help. I would die for you." He paused, choking briefly on his words. "And I'll go away for you. But never forget this: I will _always_ belong to you."

Slowly, he let the door close again. Then he walked a few paces and knelt down to rest his head against the wall, the sobs pouring out of him now, uncontrollably.

He never heard Sora open the door, but a moment later, there was a trembling hand on his neck. Riku leaned back and Sora fell into his open arms, his tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt, reeking of alcohol and unwashed clothing. "Riku, help me," Sora sobbed, his eyes clenched. "Riku, help, I'm so fucking _broken_."

"It's okay now," Riku whispered, stroking his hair. "It's going to be okay.

* * *

End of chapter six

Wow, augh, you can tell I wrote this while PMSing. What do you think? Too sappy, too cold? Thanks a billion for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Man, I hate work. It takes up so much of my time, and for minimum wage! If I could do anything I wanted, I would be sitting at home writing novels and fanfiction, drinking diet Pepsi. Hell, or regular Pepsi that doesn't make me gain weight! Yeah, while I'm fantasizing, why not?? End of random gripe.

Thanks for your patience!! I can't believe I'm posting this at the same time the Harry Potter movie comes out, but it's been too long for me to slack off anymore. I'm thinking of writing more HP fanfiction...I still have a twincest floating around somewhere under a different pen name, I am ashamed to admit. Anyway, warnings for this chapter are angst, language, and allusions to violence. The normal. Thank you all for reading--I _really_ can't say how much it means to me. I literally tear up when I get good reviews. Honestly.

OH! And to everyone who PMed me for the uncensored version of chapter four: I am so sorry, I had a list of your names, but my computer apparently ate it because it's now MIA. Hit me up again? I might take a while to reply, because I'm super-busy for the next week, but I will definitely get back to you!

I talk too much. Okay.

* * *

Evening, Softly  
By azneyez

* * *

That night, following a grim hour of searching, Riku unearthed the last of Sora's alcohol supply. He emptied nearly two dozen half-filled cups that littered the bathroom counter and the top of the television, sixteen more on the floor, even a few that had been tucked behind the curtains on the windowsill. Sora had stashed some sort of alcoholic beverage in every niche of his tiny apartment. How much would it amount to, if put together? A gallon, an ocean? Riku had been afraid he'd protest, but Sora simply lay down in his bed and pulled the covers to his eyes, watching as he gathered an army from the empty bottles.

"Cold turkey?" he whispered after a few minutes, too exhausted to raise his voice.

Riku glanced at him, disbelieving. "Are you crazy? I'm not prepared to treat delirium tremens. I'm trying to help you, not _kill _you." The sharpness in his own voice made him flinch back, and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, suddenly and deeply ashamed. "Sora...I'm sorry. I just...I love you so much, and..."

"My head hurts," Sora said.

"Let me get you some aspirin." Riku stood and went to rummage in the medicine cabinet, determinedly forcing the tightness in his throat to pass. Sora just wasn't ready for love now--it was no indication that they couldn't someday be together again. He hesitated before pulling a stack of paper cups from beneath the sink and pouring an inch of vodka into one. "Here," he said, handing Sora the drink and two pills. "I know you're not supposed to mix meds, but I think depriving you of either would do more harm than good right now."

"Mmm." Sora slowly pushed the aspirin between his lips and sipped shallowly from the cup. The simple act seemed to drain him, and he slumped back against his pillow, his head lolling. "This is bad," he said to Riku, very softly.

Riku wanted to lie, and couldn't. "Yeah, it's bad. We're getting through this, though."

"Someday we'll look back on this and laugh?"

That was an unbelievable sentiment. Riku couldn't imagine ever laughing again. "I don't know what we'll do, Sora. But we'll definitely be looking back from somewhere very beautiful."

"Maui?"

"Maybe Oahu."

Sora closed his eyes. A few tears slipped silently down his cheeks, and Riku wiped them away, trying not to wince at the cold clamminess of his skin. The windows were shut, the air conditioning sparse, he was layered in blankets--so why the hell was he still shivering? It was as if some internal thermometer had been frozen in a permanent winter. It made him nervous.

"Sora, babe? Can I get you something warm to drink?"

"I'll throw it up. Can't hold much down anymore."

"More covers?"

"It won't help."

"How about a hot shower?"

Sora finally looked up at him. There were tears in his eyes again, but he was forcing them back--a subtle show of pride that made Riku's heart glow with hope. "Listen, thank you for being here, Riku," he said in a quiet, choked voice. "It means a lot to me...a lot more than you'll ever know. But...I...I screwed myself up. I want to do things again, I do...like drinking coffee or even standing for a few minutes in the shower...that would be incredible. But I _can't_ yet. I feel too da...too tired."

_He was going to say too damaged_, Riku realized abruptly, and that sickening tightness rose again in his throat. _Oh god, Sora, how could this have happened_?

Suddenly, without any forethought or conscious decision, Riku pulled back the blankets and gently scooped Sora into his arms. Sora flinched against him, startled, curling his fingers reflexively around handfuls of his shirt.

"Riku, what--?"

Riku carried him around the side of the bed and into the lavatory, past the sinks, where the freshly washed bottles and cups were still neatly lined. Sora was heartbreakingly light. As Riku settled him on the edge of the bathtub, he shuffled his feet feebly in protest, showing fragile ankles. "Riku, _no_," he pleaded. "Please, no, I can't."

"If you're okay with this, I'm okay," said Riku. He turned on the taps, watching Sora carefully for reaction. When the water was sufficiently warmed, he cupped a handful and trickled it over Sora's curled-up toes. He cringed away. Riku repeated the motion, slower. "How is it? Too hot, too cold?"

"No, you've already done too much," Sora whispered, but he was already weakening. When Riku placed his hands under the faucet, he closed his eyes, the tension melting from his shoulders.

Riku let him stay like that for a minute. Then, awkwardly, he touched Sora's arm.

"Did you--want to take off your clothes?"

Sora shrugged, straining for nonchalance. "I can't leave them on."

Their eyes met briefly, then jumped away, guiltily. Slowly, without looking at him, Sora began to tug on the blue flannel pajama top he had put on earlier that afternoon. His clumsy fingers just wouldn't cooperate. They kept slipping around the buttons, even the coarse fabric sliding free from his grip, and he cursed under his breath and closed his eyes in frustration and embarrassment.

Because he knew Sora would never ask, Riku made the first move--an inept brush against the shirt's hem. "Is this okay?" he whispered.

Sora hesitated for a long moment, then gave him a barely perceptible nod.

Gingerly, trying not to touch him at all, Riku undid the top few buttons and motioned for Sora to raise his arms. He did so, and Riku gently tugged the shirt off, watching as it rustled through his perceptibly darker hair. The lack of sun was evident in other places, too...the paleness of his skin, an absence of rosiness in the usually flushed hollow of his throat. When the air touched his skin Sora shivered and crossed his arms over his chest, doubling over. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered. The shame in his voice was unmistakable.

"You're beautiful, Sora," Riku said, softly, "but I'm not looking at you like that right now."

It was the right thing to say. Sora glanced up at him but did not straighten, still shaking faintly. "I was just thinking about how many people have seen me this way," he said, his voice cracking. "Before she died, my mother used to say, 'the body is a temple.' It's one of those things I just remember, like 'don't step on a crack' or 'find a penny, pick it up.' I always tried to imagine myself as a temple...I swept metaphorical floors, dusted all the altars...but I never reinforced my architecture. I relied on other people to do that for me. Now I realize how...how _fragile_ I was inside."

"You were fragile because you're intricate," said Riku. "But some things are stronger once they've been put back together. Better glue. Second chances. Axel and Roxas--they're never going to fall apart again, I guarantee it."

Sora was quiet for a moment. "How has Roxas been?"

Not great. But "bad" wasn't the word, either. "He's healing," Riku answered simply.

"I miss him. I've been thinking about him a lot." Another pause, this time lengthy enough that it was disquieting. Riku opened his mouth to prompt him to continue, but the words died in his throat. Sora was trembling again; violent tremors that racked his entire body. "I wonder if things will ever be normal between us again," he said rapidly. "With what happened...god...I don't know if we'll ever be able to look at each other or...or...go out for coffee or talk or...and that's what _disgusts_ me about it, is that _Roxas_ was there, not just _them_, but one of my best friends, someone who's a _brother_ to me!"

"Sora--"

"Have you spoken to him at all? Did he tell you they made me _beg_ for it? They told me they would kill me if I didn't, but I should've let them try! I can't live like this, in my own skin, in this _filth_!"

He suddenly flung himself at Riku, sobbing, almost knocking him off the edge of the bathtub with the vehemence of the embrace. Riku clung back to him as tightly as he could, wincing as the Sora's tears fell against neck. Now he could see the remnants of even more bruising along his bare shoulders and down his spine--some of them hadn't even yellowed yet; dark fingerprints stood out like exclamation points on the pale skin of his lower back. He stroked Sora's hair and held him close, mentally cursing himself.

"I'm sorry, Sora, this was a bad idea. Let's get you back to bed."

"_No_," Sora pleaded, pulling away from him. "No, don't take this away from me! I want to feel clean again. I _need_ to feel clean."

"What you need to rest. Your body is..."

"Weak--I know. But you can be strong enough for the both of us."

The words from Sora's last letter suddenly came back to him, so vivid they made him ache: _I love your integrity, the kind that holds you up, and still finds enough strength to hold me up next to you. I love you with 200 percent of my clumsy heart._ And when Sora abruptly touched his face, desperate for consolation, Riku nodded and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Okay," he agreed quietly. "I've already decided I'm never going to let you down again...but you need to tell me if I'm scaring you. Promise me."

"I promise," Sora whispered.

Slowly, Riku resumed undressing him, tugging the drawstrings on his pajama bottoms and sliding them carefully down his too-thin hips. More bruises. Stark bite marks on the inner thighs. He had to lift Sora marginally to remove his underwear, and Sora clung to his neck, squeezing his eyes shut as he was tenderly vested of his final garment. Riku moved a little closer to him, trying to thwart the impending chills with his own body heat. Sora shuddered anyway. Riku paused a beat to breathe, frightened by the delicacy of this operation. "Sora..."

"I'm okay, I'm okay."

Letting out a tense breath, Riku reached for the toe of his left sock.

"No, wait!" Sora cried. "Let me keep my socks--please, my ankles--"

His fucking ankles, that was right--the only places he had never offered to let Riku touch. "Sora, fuck, I'm so sorry. I forgot."

"Stupid hang-up," Sora muttered, clearly embarrassed by his reaction.

"Everyone has them."

Riku removed his own socks and stepped into the tub, then reached down to help Sora up next to him. Sora took a few seconds to find his equilibrium, clinging to him hard under the arms, and as soon as he had his footing Riku secured an arm around his tiny waist. With the other hand, he pulled the curtain closed and turned on the shower to a fine mist.

Sora drew in a sharp breath when the water touched his skin, hugging him closer. His bare body pressed immodestly against Riku's, but incredibly, Riku felt no answering response in his own--Sora's nakedness seemed more than literal, and it broke his heart. He was seeing his lover stripped of clothing, inhibitions, hopes, confidence...but what remained, even in its tiny percentage, was beautiful. Pale contentment. The possibility of recovery. _Trust_. Sora didn't flinch as Riku wet a washcloth with soap and touched it lightly to his back, working up a sweet-smelling lather. His fingernails dug briefly into Riku's back, then relaxed.

"It feels so good," Sora whispered.

Riku trailed the cloth up his spine, scrubbing the arches of his neck, down his arms. Sora stretched his hands so he could get the soft places between his fingers, then placed them on Riku's shoulders, tentatively staring into his eyes. Riku met the gaze unabashedly.

"I love you," he repeated plainly.

Sora nodded and lowered his gaze.

Better, this time--it was not yet a return of his feelings, but it was an acknowledgement, a huge improvement from the unashamed sidestep he had taken earlier. Riku let go of Sora briefly to soap his calves, silently marveling at the fragility of the limbs. Tiny muscles jumped under his skin wherever he was touched. His reactions became more and more pronounced as Riku neared his knees, so he stopped there and resumed cautiously at his hips. No protests, so he worked slowly into neighboring areas. The small of his back was a terrifying procedure, but after tensing once, Sora stilled, his eyes squeezed so tightly shut that Riku could feel his lashes fluttering against his collarbone.

"Tell me when to stop, Sora," Riku warned him desperately. "Please, don't let me hurt you."

"It's not hurting."

But even through the shower's light rain, he felt Sora's tears bleeding hotly into his shirt. His hands tightened on his back again, and he suddenly pulled Riku closer, trembling.

"Riku..."

"Oh god, Sora." He buried his face in Sora's hair, breathing in his clean scent as his own breath hitched. "Sora."

Sora sobbed in his arms for a long time, a reckless, open grief that spilled dark poison from his wounds. It was as if he'd finally removed a part of himself that was infected, like an unknowable cancer trying to eat away at his life's impetus. And though it killed Riku to see him hurting, he understood it was a necessary hurdle--a good hurt, thorough, _clean_, one that would fade as he woke up each day to find himself still breathing, still living. Riku held him as he cried, supporting him steadily in his sorrow as the warm water washed gently over their unified form.

* * *

He toweled Sora off afterwards, swathing him in one of the clean shirts he'd retrieved from his suitcase downstairs before carrying him back to the bed. Sora finally let him reopen the blinds, and both of them were shocked to see the sun just beginning to light the horizon. "We made it past yesterday," Riku said, uttering a small, disbelieving laugh. "Shit...I didn't think that day was ever going to end."

Sora just stared up at him silently in response, his eyes huge and defenseless in the face of a new dawn. Riku quieted, touching his cheek briefly with the backs of his fingers.

"We can do this," he assured Sora quietly. "I know it seems impossible, but it's nothing you're not strong enough for. One step at a time. It's the only way."

Once he was sure Sora had digested his words, he nudged him over and slid into the cool sheets beside him. Sora immediately put his arms around his shoulders. Riku kissed his neck and pulled him a little closer, staring out the window as morning flirted with the still-dark sky. Sora's breathing became calmer. He spoke up a few minutes after Riku had assumed he'd fallen asleep, startling him. "Your shirt is soaked," he murmured, lifting his head and touching the places where the fabric was sticking to Riku's skin, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest.

"Sorry, I'll change the sheets tomorrow. I'm too tired to do it now."

"The soap will set in. Let me wash it...it's a nice shirt."

"It's _just_ a shirt," Riku said, sighing. "Sora, in the last few weeks, don't you think there've been bigger casualties?"

There was a pause. Riku listened as Sora settled back onto the pillow, his hair rustling. Suddenly he could feel Sora's lips on his collarbone, kissing him lightly through the wet white cotton. His fingers danced along his shoulders and twined in the hair near the back of his neck, cradling his head as he leaned forward to brush their cheeks together. "No casualties yet," he whispered, nuzzling his smooth jaw line. "We're still breathing, aren't we? We're here, and we're together. Please tell me that counts for something."

"It counts for a lot, Sora."

They brushed lips twice before Riku pushed him away, gently stroking his face. They stared into each other's eyes for a while, maybe a few minutes, examining each other silently.

"So what happens now?" Sora asked softly. "Do I fall into your arms, laugh, cry...what? What happens, and when do I forget?"

Riku did not answer immediately. "You don't," he said finally.

"God." Sora let his eyes flutter shut in exhaustion, dropping his head against Riku's chest. Riku kissed his forehead, then his trembling eyelids.

"Tomorrow night," he said, stroking Sora's still-damp hair, "I'm taking you out on the town. We can do anything you want...see shows, lose ten thousand in the slots, go to a dozen fancy restaurants and order nothing but desserts...it's all up to you. Just as long as you're having fun and getting better."

"Riku, be reasonable. It's going to be a while before I'm able to do anything but drink and wallow."

"No, _you_ be reasonable. What you've been through is enough to bring anyone to their knees. It's enough to _kill_ a person, Sora, but _you're still here_. When I think of what's happened to you in your life, the things you've been forced to do...and how...how _lucky_ I am that you're strong enough to...to keep..." he had to stop. His chest hitched with sobs, and he had to choke them back down. Sora reached for him tentatively, and he squeezed his hands hard. "Don't you dare sum yourself up like that again," he finished, shaking with anger. "What you're doing is _living_. Give yourself some fucking credit."

The following silence seemed to tingle with thin despair, a furious passion felt only between lovers. Riku balled his fists and pushed them against his eyes until he saw stars, clenching his teeth hard against the sudden onset of emotion. He thought he had been making progress.

Then Sora rolled back over onto his pillow, staring out the window.

"The view's not very good here," he said.

"We're too close to the ground," Riku agreed.

Sora twined his fingers firmly with Riku's, a strong, confident gesture that dispelled the last remnants of his despondency. He turned to find Sora looking at him again, his dim eyes contemplative and tender.

"Tomorrow, when we go out, I want to go someplace high," Sora said quietly. "As high off the earth as we can get, and as close to heaven."

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Riku captured Sora's lips with his own. Sora tensed briefly before cautiously opening his mouth, allowing Riku to explore him in full. He tasted different, Riku realized. Not quite as sweet. He tasted a faint saltiness of his tears on his tongue, a sadly mature grief, the lingering warmth of alcohol. Riku pulled back slowly, torn between the conflicting emotions of hope and uncertainty. It was Sora he was lying with in bed. Sora's scent. Sora's hands in his hair.

"I swear I'm going to get you there," Riku promised, his breathing ragged. "To heaven, I mean."

Sora kissed him again. "You already have, Ri. I just...want to get back."

And at that last, Sora broke into a faint, hesitant smile, settling into the blankets and closing his eyes. He was asleep before Riku could even react. Riku watched him for a long time, his pulse fluttering, paralyzed by his perfection. Only when he was sure that Sora was secure outside the realm of nightmares did he let his own eyes fall shut, feeling his boyfriend's warm presence beside him--close, solid, and real, like their love...and like his sudden confidence that they were going to make it.

* * *

End of chapter seven

Reviews are love, but I've already received waaay more than I deserve...so hit me up with criticisms, if you want! I am always looking to improve. Thank you so much for reading.


End file.
